Store Cupboard Spies
by LoveUnderLockAndKey
Summary: What would our story have been like if Mr. Carson & Mrs. Hughes had secretly married in 1914? Many characters are in for a roller coaster ride of humour & heart as they furiously try to keep it all under wraps. An alternative look at the story we've come to love so well. *Starts during S1E6*-Chpt 15 & 34 are a bit M
1. Chapter 1

**They aren't mine, but I sure like to borrow them! ;)**

Store Cupboard Spies

"Mrs. Hughes, would you mind..." Charles Carson started as he entered into the store cupboard.

"SHHHH!" Elsie Hughes was standing on a small step stool, peering out of the small, dingy window just beyond the flour stock.

"What exactly is it that you're doing, and why does it involve me being quiet," he asked as he quietly shut the door.

She gritted her teeth and held a shaking index finger to her lips, fire in her eyes. She used her other hand to beckon him over to join her.

Charles leaned towards the window but couldn't make anything intelligible out of the quiet mumblings. "I have no idea what it is you are hearing, but..."

"Mr. Carson, if you do not keep quiet, I'll give you something to be loud about!"

He immediately stilled and tried again to understand what was obviously so interesting going on just beyond the pane.

Elsie's face visibly softened as she watched the scene unfolding outside the window. "Oh dear," she sighed, her eyes wistful with a twinge of worry. She stepped down off the stool, and used her hands to grip his shoulders and bring him over to the window.

"See for yourself."

Charles strained his eyes to peer through the dirty glass. "What exactly is it that I'm looking at, and why is this window so dirty?"

"Oh stop! We're in the store cupboard. Who ever is in here to look through it?" She shook her head. His quest for perfection knew no bounds. She stepped back onto the stool and turned his head to pointedly face in the direction of her intended target.

With their heads firmly pressed together, spying fervently through the glass, Charles began to process what was going on.

"Is that...?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is."

"Well, well." He said with a slight chuckle. Charles Carson, chuckling. Wonders never cease. "What do you suppose we should do about that?"

"What can we do?" Elsie gently bumped his shoulder with her own.

Neither would have the chance to answer the question as William crashed through the hall door, dropping a rather heavy crate.

It startled all four of them, the two closing the distance outside the window and the two regarding them from inside. Elsie slipped on the stool but Charles was there to catch her and set her back upright on the much steadier floor.

She patted his arm. "Mr. Bates is a good man. That I know and hope that you believe."

"I do, Mrs. Hughes. I do."

"We've got to figure this out, for both of their sakes."

"So you don't think we should step in here? Interfere?"

She reached over to him taking both of his hands into her own.

"Can you imagine if someone would have done that to us?"

He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them soundly around her and gently kissing the top of her head.

"No, I cannot. Then again, we aren't quite as obvious now are we?"

She stealthily escaped his embrace, reaching over to the counter upon which the sugar rested and drew back a hand full of keys. She snuck a quick look into the servants hall to be sure the commotion, and the staff, had cleared and soundly locked the door.

"If you want obvious Charles, all you have to do is ask."


	2. Chapter 2

**This is for all you dear, and maddening, souls who requested a second chapter. (I'm an angst writer folks... maybe slight humour... but surely not L-O-V-E!) I could be tempted to continue, but only if you want more.**

**As always, they're not mine, but I sure like to borrow them! ;) **

Store Cupboard Spies - The Reluctant Second Chapter

Charles raised an eyebrow and gave her the charming little half smile that had always warmed her heart.

"Why Elsie Hughes, I do believe that your little discovery has lit quite the fuse." He started towards her, closing the already small distance. "Spying suits you."

She landed a small smack on his right shoulder. "Now Charles Carson, I most certainly was not SPYING. I was merely trying to figure out what would best clean that window when I ACCIDENTALLY..." She couldn't finish the sentence as they both started laughing uncontrollably at the ridiculous attempt at an excuse she was grasping to fashion.

"Mmmm, clean windows. You always have known just what to say to get me going."

Elsie rolled her eyes to such a degree, she thought they just might jolly well stay there as she simultaneously threw her head to the right and uttered a dismissive groan.

Charles seized the opportunity to pull her in and stifle any more noises of disapproval that might come from Elsie's lips. Yes, he would certainly keep those well occupied.

"You have quite the cheek on you tonight, I must say," she spoke, breaking away, but only slightly. She ran her hands under his waistcoat, wrapping them around his middle.

"Do you think we may have witnessed what I think we may have witnessed, my dear?"

"If you mean the groundbreaking attempt of a first kiss, I do believe you may be right," she said wistfully, holding him tighter, resting her head against his chest.

"Do you remember our first kiss," he asked, stifling a laugh.

"How could I forget? I do believe it involved a slight bit of bloodshed. Not something very easily forgotten, I'm afraid." She chuckled as the memory overtook both of them.

* * *

><p>Elsie had just told him about the return of Joe Burns into her life. The man that had once joyfully proposed to her as a girl had come back to claim her as a woman. She described him as a nice man, a good man. He wished for her to give him, to give them, another go, to return with him to a life she knew well.<p>

"And he proposed again, and you accepted?"

Charles felt his heart had stopped beating for the few seconds he spent processing that she might actually be leaving Downton... leaving him. He heard every word but as though she were speaking them from very far away. The thundering of his eardrums told him his heart was still beating but was drowning out and protecting him from hearing the potentially painful blow she was about to deliver.

"I was flattered, of course, but I've changed Mr. Carson," she said, her voice hitching, her eyes full of emotions she was terrified to let escape into the open.

She loved him.

Things had always been so easy between them. Conversation always flowed, silence was always comfortable and the company of another was never so pleasant. They ran Downton Abbey in such grand style and with such ease that it was too difficult contemplating revealing anything that might cause that to change. He took such pride in his work, in their work, that she couldn't bear the thought of doing anything to compromise that.

Downton had become more than a job, to both of them. He had openly spoke of it becoming his family. She would not dare admit it, but that was exactly how she had come to think of them all. They ruled their nest with just the right measure of strict direction and heart. How could she risk changing all of that by speaking her own heart? Emotions were foolish; duty was admirable.

"Life's altered you, as it's altered me, and what would be the point of living if we didn't let life change us?"

Charles watched her intently as she managed a small smile but processed the evident pain that marked her expression. He honestly couldn't imagine life at Downton without her. He had told her once that the family here was all the family he had. He knew that she thought he had solely meant the Crawleys. What he couldn't tell her was that she was a large part of that family.

She was the part that truly mattered.

He played a large role in raising the Crawley girls, and did so as if they were his own, that was true, but since she had taken over as housekeeper, he imagined them as the true heads of household. They kept the ship sailing, so to speak, even through the rockiest of tides. The children, as he had come to think of those under their supervision and jurisdiction, made their family feel as true as could be. Some, like Thomas, constantly pushed boundaries, trying their patience, whilst others, like Anna, gave them joy through easy expressions of hard work and kindness. Watching the young ones come in and grow up into fine young men and women gave him the greatest sense of pride and accomplishment.

Perhaps even more than managing a dinner without a maid in the dining room.

He honestly hoped that she felt the same, but did not dare upset the fragile, perfect world they had worked so hard to create.

He lifted his head, which had been weighed down with heavy thought, to venture one question.

"You won't be leaving then?"

Before she could answer, there was their little worker bee, Anna, saving their youngest, Daisy, from an overzealous Mrs. Patmore. There was no denying that they most certainly were a little family.

Charles and Elsie never knew that they had always shared the thought.

Off Elsie swooped to rescue and restore sanity in the kitchen with her constant companion, the heavy weight of house keys. Charles followed her to the kitchen where she firmly stood up to Mrs. Patmore, tired of the infinite fight over the blasted store cupboard key, but never backing down to firmly assure her status in the matter. He fought hard to hold back the grin that pulled at his expression.

He did love her Scottish fire.

She found it odd that he should be hanging about. This was her matter, not his. "Is there something that you needed, Mr. Carson" she asked, the edge from dealing with Mrs. Patmore still in her voice.

He stood there, watching her intently, overcome with the knowledge that she would stay. He could not imagine life at Downton without her. Now, gratefully, he wouldn't have to.

"Mr. Carson?" He was jolted out of his reverie by her perturbed tone.

"What," he replied, embarrassed that he had not heard one word that she had said since she admitted that she would stay.

"Are you quite alright?" She softened a bit, worried at his unfamiliar lost state.

He stiffened up, returning to his habitual status quo. "Quite alright, Mrs. Hughes. I was just wondering if I could be of assistance... with retrieving items from the store cupboard."

He was formulating a plan. He knew he would have to be quick, but it must not wait any longer. After most recent events, he could not let another minute pass by without taking the ultimate risk. It could ultimately lead to disaster, but something their wisest little bird once told him unearthed itself from the burrows of his memory.

"I think you regret being honest less often than you regret telling lies."

She was young, but Anna was wise beyond her years. He hadn't exactly been lying to Elsie all this time, but he had been withholding the truth. What was the bigger sin?

"I suppose so," she answered, slightly bewildered. She assumed Daisy would accompany her to the cupboard and retrieve what Mrs. Patmore had required so vehemently. Goodness knows, she wouldn't come herself, so entirely put out that she was constantly denied access.

"It's settled then. That will be all Daisy. Why don't you take a rest in the servant's hall? I believe William is providing entertainment for this evening." He took Daisy gently by the shoulders, spun her around and sent her off down the hall.

"We will be back with your requirements shortly, Mrs. Patmore," he spoke seriously to the puzzled cook. She knew better than to question his authority though; this he knew and felt confident in.

Elsie was dumbfounded. What had gotten into the man? This behavior was definitely out of the ordinary and bound to raise speculation. Baffled, but too exhausted to question, she continued on down the hall.

She extracted the store cupboard key from the others and turned it in the lock. As she entered the door, she started, "Mr. Carson, are you sure..."

She never got the chance to finish the sentence.

Charles shut the door soundly behind him and grabbed her about the waist, turning her into his arms. Leaning heavily against the door, he fervently sought her lips with his own. Forget telling her how he felt. He would surely show her.

Propriety be damned.

Elsie was stunned. Most pleasantly stunned. She lost herself in his passion easily and quite readily, uncharacteristically giving in and letting him take over.

This is what she knew could exist with Charles Carson. She hardly let herself get lost in the dream of it, for dreams were impractical, but her heart knew of the potential. She always knew it was there.

This is what she never would have had with Joe Burns. As kind, gentle and hard-working of a man as he was, she didn't have the same passion for him as what had grown in her heart for Charles. She knew that he was the only one that could ever claim her, if he dared, but had consigned herself to a life of his simple companionship.

This was better. Much better.

What neither of them noticed was the shelf of preserves so dangerously close to where they were losing themselves in each other. As Charles lifted a hand to grasp the nape of Elsie's neck, he struck the shelf, knocking two glass jars to the floor. They shattered loudly, causing the otherwise absorbed butler and housekeeper to jump nearly out of their skin.

Charles immediately reached down to try and scoop up the shards of glass, the fog clearly not yet lifted from his distractingly occupied thoughts. "Damn," he thundered as he drew back a nicely sliced finger, colouring with fresh blood.

"Seriously Charles," she said exasperatingly with a slight twinge of worry, but through a wide smile.

He looked up at her and returned a wild grin. "Well at least we managed to create a good story."

* * *

><p>"Do you remember their faces when we opened the door?" Charles's chest shook soundly, rocking Elsie and eliciting a slight snicker from her as well.<p>

"Bless Anna. She was so worried when she saw the blood!"

"I think she was more worried when I suggested that you threw them at me."

"I still cannot believe you did that. I honestly don't think Daisy has recovered from that tale. She hasn't looked me in the eye since!"

"Well, I couldn't have bloody well told them the truth, now could I? Attention all, I just wanted you to know that I am hopelessly in love with Mrs. Hughes and we have decided to passionately cover each other in affection in the store cupboard. Carry on."

She laughed readily, climbing upon the step stool. Here, they were perfect.

"Do you think any of them suspect?"

"Suspect WHY I won't give Mrs. Patmore the key to the store cupboard, or this?" Elsie leaned forward to give Charles a light kiss. He wouldn't let her get away that easy. He wrapped her up soundly in his arms, deepening the act they had regularly indulged in within this tiny space and during the briefest allowances of stolen time.

"I was actually thinking about this," he spoke softly as he raised her hands and kissed her left ring finger.


	3. Chapter 3

**Now I'm having too much fun. Thank you all for the encouragement; I do hope you are enjoying this claustrophobic romp as much as I am! :)**

**As always, they aren't mine, but I sure love borrowing them!**

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 3

Elsie opened her mouth to speak but was immediately silenced by a strong, sharp voice growing ever louder... and ever closer. She looked at Charles with wide eyes as they both realized who it was.

"Come here girl!" Mrs. Patmore bellowed for Daisy as she stormed her way to the store cupboard door.

"But, I really don't think we should," squeaked a very nervous Daisy. "I saw Mrs. Hughes here earlier and she'd be sure to notice if anything were to go out of place."

Neither of them had realized that Elsie had never left, and that she had since obtained a companion. How long had they been in there exactly?

Elsie let the held breath escape her lungs as she thanked the Lord above for small favors. Goodness knows how much courage it must have taken ever skittish Daisy to muster up to speak up to Mrs. Patmore. Charles managed a weak, "Good girl" as he stood firmly planted to the spot, hands still nervously clenched onto Elsie waist.

"Well she isn't here now, is she, and desperate times call for desperate measures!" Before she knew it, Mrs. Patmore had extracted a hairpin from Daisy's chignon and began to insert it into the keyhole, metal scratching upon metal.

"Dear Lord, she's picking the lock!" Elsie tersely whispered through clenched teeth. "The nerve of that woman!"

Charles's eyes shot open as he threw a hand up to cover the barrage of insults now spewing from a thoroughly annoyed, and obviously distracted, Elsie's lips. He pointed first at her, then to himself, then forcefully at the door, finally throwing his hands up in a hurried plea for an idea.

"Well they know that I was here, but you... you'll have to hide."

"And where in heaven's name do you suppose I do that, my dear? Behind the pickle jar? Or perhaps the apple basket?"

He was right. Though frantic, she couldn't help but laugh at the thought of her giant of a man trying to eclipse himself behind a tiny bag of spices.

"I fail to see the humour in this situation," he hissed as beads of perspiration began to mount on his forehead.

"I think I can manage to squeeze between the shelves and the wall, just beyond the sight line of the door," Elsie hurriedly whispered as she deftly maneuvered herself into the very uncomfortable sliver of space. "Though, I'm afraid you are going to have to put those old stage skills to use," she managed just as the door swung open revealing a highly agitated, sweaty Charles Carson to the unsuspecting kitchen staff.

Daisy's eyes went wild as her bottom lip started to quiver. She bit it furiously, expecting the worst display of disappointment she could imagine coming from Mr. Carson. Charles felt for her in that moment, realizing that she was probably far more nervous of his reaction to the scene than he was of hers. Mrs. Patmore stood her ground, though obviously startled by what she had found.

"Mrs. Patmore, would you kindly explain what you are doing pushing in to the store cupboard," he bellowed through the open door.

Now it was Mrs. Patmore's turn to be put on the spot. He had to admit that he was actually enjoying this a bit more than he had imagined, forgetting that he would most likely have to fashion his own excuse for why he, the butler, would be in the store cupboard, clearly Mrs. Hughes's domain.

Mrs. Patmore didn't miss a beat. "Mr. Carson, I really must ask that you speak to Mrs. Hughes about giving me access to this store cupboard, for once and for all. I really do need my own key. I don't think it is above me to ask as I AM the cook and should rightfully have access to the food I need to prepare." This woman was determined.

Charles heard the slight grumbling coming from his left and furiously coughed to cover up the errant noise.

"Are you alright Mr. Carson," asked a very tentative Daisy. "You should ask Mrs. Hughes for some honey with your tea tonight."

Sweet Daisy. The poor girl always did manage to get the short end of the stick, as it were. "I am quite fine Daisy. I must have inhaled a bit of dust is all."

Another small noise from the left, which he swore was laughter, elicited two more tense throat clearings from Charles. He would have to deal with her later.

"I will speak with Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore," he said to placate the woman in an effort to clear her from the doorway. "I cannot promise any action will be taken, but I will try to explain your side of things and see if we cannot come to some sort of compromise."

A jar rattled on the shelf. Good God woman, can you not see that I'm just trying to make her go away?

Mrs. Patmore, seeming satisfied with his answer, gave a small nod of her head and turned to travel back to the kitchen.

It was good, old, reliable Daisy that had to innocently ask the question.

"But what were you doing in the store cupboard, Mr. Carson?"

Elsie could not help herself. She fought so hard against breaking the silence with the ever mounting pressure in her chest. A few more small puffs of laughter pushed out. She knew Charles was bound to kill her.

In an effort to distract Daisy from the rude behavior of a highly amused Elsie, Charles closed the distance, making his way to fully inhabit the doorframe.

"The truth is, Daisy, I am very lucky that Mrs. Patmore did push in. You see, I knew that Mrs. Hughes was terribly busy today and did not want to bother her with a request from Lady Mary. I came into the store cupboard to check on the stock for a surprise for her ladyship when the door shut and I found myself locked in!"

Daisy's eyes widened as she contemplated what that could mean. "But the only way that door locks is if Mrs. Hughes..."

He had done it now. Elsie could spit fire. If he told Daisy that she had locked him in here, Daisy would undoubtedly be scared to death of her for goodness knows how long. She would most definitely kill him, slowly and painfully, but until then, she'd enjoy causing him a little further anxiety.

The shelf shook loudly; he realized that she had kicked it on purpose. Insufferable, he thought, but then it dawned on him why.

"No, you see, there is a little nick in the slide here," he said as he tapped his finger on the unmarred metal, but in a way that Daisy couldn't tell the difference. He knew that she would take his word for it and never bother to look into it further. She never seemed to bother with trivial details, unlike ever observant Anna.

He did know the children so well.

"I think it may have caught when the door swung shut. I am grateful that you came along when you did, but do me a favor and don't speak another word of it to Mrs. Patmore. I wouldn't want her to worry."

"Yes Mr. Carson. I do think we came just in time. You looked positively scared to death," Daisy said in all seriousness, adding a quick, "if you don't mind me saying so." She turned red, feeling that she had embarrassed herself, and possibly Mr. Carson. She always managed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time in front of the wrong people.

Another set of cheerful, reluctantly held breaths came from the corner.

"Between you and I, Daisy, I do think I may have spied a rat in here. Terrible thing to think of in this fine house. I'll be setting a trap immediately, so do be sure to discourage Mrs. Patmore from any more pushing in until further notice."

"Yes Mr. Carson," Daisy said as she scurried on down the hall.

"I smell a rat, alright," she muttered from the corner, with a small laugh.

"Sneaky little thing she is too," he replied quietly, moving towards her. "Now are you going to come out of there, or am I going to have to set a trap for you too?"

"Charles," she gasped. "I'm stuck."


	4. Chapter 4

**This story has become quite the runaway train… It always manages to take me somewhere I didn't plan! I can't tell you how much the encouragement to continue has meant to me. I am having so much fun with this and hope that you are too! :-) **

**As always, they most definitely are not mine, but I do love borrowing them!**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 4

Now it was Charles's turn to laugh.

"How can you laugh at a time like this," she hissed, her breathing starting to become uneven.

"I believe one of your favorite phrases comes to mind, my dear."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"What's good for the goose, is good for the gander."

Elsie struggled to shift herself in an effort to break free and throttle the man, only managing to get further wedged in to the increasingly tight space.

"I do admit that I was quite trying a few moments ago, but this is certainly much worse," she relented, her head the only part of her body now able to move.

She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Charles. I'm having trouble catching my breath."

He reached over and placed a gentle hand on her neck, the only space open enough to allow him any access to her. "Dear Lord, you must certainly are stuck, aren't you?"

"Did you think that I was pulling your leg, because I can assure you that I most certainly am not!" The ever calm and methodical Elsie Hughes was beginning to panic. Charles could see it plainly written across her increasingly tensing features.

He would have to get her out of here and quickly. Unfortunately, everything he could think of would require a great bit of risk. He could seek out Mr. Bates or Anna; goodness knows that they were both capable of keeping quiet about such matters and would be willing, but he was still reluctant to let anyone else in on their secret.

"I just told Daisy that I would be setting a trap in here. If I don't leave and come back, things will look suspicious."

"I think we are well beyond things looking suspicious at this juncture!"

"You don't think they believed me, then" Charles wondered, a bit of hurt springing forth in his voice.

"Charles, I could care less if they bought your silly tale at the moment. I rather value the ability to breathe a bit more!"

"You thought my story was silly?"

Oh this was beginning to be too much. The man's ego! "You do understand that if you don't get me out of here, and soon, you'll be visiting me at my grave and not in my bed."

Charles never knew Elsie to be claustrophobic. They had been together in small spaces before, the obvious being the habitual one they were caught in now. The truth of the situation was that the mixture of physical constraint and loss of control was sending Elsie over the edge.

"I'm afraid I must leave and come back," he told her gently as he smoothed the errant strands of hair that had fallen over her brow. He bent to kiss her forehead and stroke her arm in an effort to calm her a bit before the inevitable. "I'll be as quick as I can. I'll run out to the shed and grab something, anything, which might look passable for a "trap." I promise, Elsie. I'll be but a moment."

Tears rarely beckoned at Elsie's eyes, but the desperate nature of the situation started to overtake her ever steady, rational countenance. "Please hurry, Charles," she begged. "Please. Hurry. And for the Lord's sake, don't shut the door."

"I have to," he sighed, "but I'll be quick about it." He kissed her softly, never letting his eyes leave hers as he crossed over and gently closed the door, blanketing the room in complete darkness.

The keys.

He had forgotten the keys. The panic started to rise up into her throat until the sensible side of her mind took over, telling her that the door was incapable of locking without a turn of the key.

True to his word, Charles was back within minutes. Minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours, for both of them, but minutes nonetheless.

He turned the knob and pushed against the door, only to find that it failed to open. His grip tensed as he furiously started turning, left then right, pulling the knob first up then down, and finally forcefully jiggling the wood in the frame. The door refused to budge.

He couldn't help but feel cursed by the fates for telling Daisy that stupid tale about the knick in the slide.

Daisy.

She might just save them.

Elsie could hear Charles struggling with the door. What now? Had they not endured enough this evening? The sounds of his frustration coupled with the mounting terror of being trapped in a plague of constricting darkness awoke a new fire in her. She gathered up all her might to twist and push, fighting to break free. She would get out of this herself come hell or high water.

Charles had hustled down the hallway, praying that Daisy was still up and about and had not retired for the evening. He found her in the servant's hall, sweetly nodding off to the sounds of William's soft piano. Luckily most everyone else had already retired, save Mrs. Patmore who was working away in the kitchen and would surely come to order Daisy to bed at any moment's notice.

"Daisy, could I see you for a moment please," Charles asked, stoutly and officially as ever.

Daisy hopped up in her chair, obviously startled. "Yes, Mr. Carson" she replied quickly, but sleepily. It was true that she often got things wrong and caused a lot of anxiety towards the efficient end of things, but she had an unfailing way of remaining endearing.

Charles ushered her out into the hall, gulping down the knot that had started to form in his throat. He was never nervous about addressing the staff, but if he didn't get this just right, it could shatter everything they had worked for. Luckily, it was Daisy he was dealing with; this gave him the confidence he needed to push forward.

"Daisy, do you think you could show me how Mrs. Patmore broke open the lock on the storage cupboard?"

"I'm not sure that I could Mr. Carson. I didn't see what she was doing very well because I knew it was wrong and didn't want to get into trouble…"

He stopped her nervous rambling by placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's quite alright Daisy. You aren't in any trouble here. Do you know what she used?"

"She used one of my hairpins."

"Would you mind giving me one to try? You see, the door swung shut when I went outside to obtain the trap for that pesky rat I mentioned, and I cannot seem to get back in." He silently prayed that this was working as he hurried her along with him down the hall. "I would like to take care of the vermin before any more trouble is caused."

"Sure, Mr. Carson," she replied as she started to extract a pin from her hair. He did seem to be in an awful hurry, she thought, but was too tired to dwell on it. This is exactly what Charles was counting on.

She handed the hairpin over to him as they approached the store cupboard door, which promptly swung open with a bang.

Elsie Hughes looked a right wreck. Her hair had become loose, her face red, and here she stood in front of her nerve-ridden love… and Daisy?

"Mrs. Hughes," Daisy squeaked. "Are you alright?"

Trying furiously to quickly piece together her normal steady visage, Elsie nodded slowly. Normally quick to make a comeback, she was unable to find any words.

"You must have seen the rat then," Daisy replied, very seriously.

All tension left Elsie and Charles as they both struggled not to laugh. The desperation had surely lifted.

"Oh, yes, and a frightful thing it was, too. Gave me quite a scare."

"It certainly looks like it," Daisy said, turning red again, always managing to embarrass herself with her unfailing honesty.

Charles decided to save her a bit, ever thankful for her innocence.

"That will be all Daisy. Thank you for your help. I really must get to setting that trap… and fixing this door apparently. Why don't you go on up to bed now. You have an early day, and I wouldn't want Mrs. Patmore pointing that out to you."

Daisy nodded quickly and hurried over to the stairs, ultimately taking them two at a time in an effort to avoid any further admonishment from Mrs. Patmore.

"What the hell happened with the door," Elsie exclaimed as quietly as she could whilst still getting her exasperation across.

"I have no idea! I'm a bit suspicious of the fates for providing a bit of payback for that story I told Daisy. They say lies have a way of catching up with you, you know."

"Well we're certainly due to be in a world of trouble then aren't we," she said, letting the relief of breathing fresh air into her lungs overtake her.

"How are YOU? How in the world did you manage to get yourself out of that situation," he asked gesturing towards the space that he now saw was much smaller than he had originally thought. How did she ever fit in there in the first place?

"You know me, my dear, a fighter till the end. I managed myself just fine, but I cannot say that my dress fared the same," she sighed as she turned around, revealing a very sizable tear in the fabric of her dress, stretching from her waist down to her knee, right over the center of her backside.

"Is it bad?"

Charles was horrified. "Bad is an understatement."

"I contorted myself in ways that not even you have witnessed, dearest, and was rewarded by falling flat on my face on the floor there, but not before I heard a great ripping sound. Where is it?"

"You don't want to know."

"No bother. We are all susceptible to the occasional tear. I'll mend it later," she said dismissively, not realizing the extent of this new problem. She moved to push past Charles into the hall, when he surprisingly reached out and firmly grasped both her shoulders .

"If you think I'll allow anyone else to get a proper look at my wife's knickers, well then you don't know me at all," he grumbled, his voice incapable of a true whisper.

"Hush now," she shushed as he allowed her to peek her head out into the hall. "Well I certainly am glad that no one is hanging about to hear your easy confessions! Is it really that bad?"

"Stem to stern, I'm afraid."

"Bother! I just fixed this hem too."

Charles reached out to grab her wrist tenderly. "Most of the others have retired, but there are some still lurking about. Unless you want to wait them out entirely, I suggest that you allow me to CLOSELY follow you up the stairs and to your room." He would not allow anyone to see her in such a state of undress. That was a privilege held sacred for his eyes only.

She shook her head. Could the man think of nothing else?

"And no, I am not trying to seduce you, my dear," he added, keenly able to read her mind as only he could.

"Fine then," she relented, tiredness seeping in. "I do feel a bit done in after all this excitement."

"Not too done in, I hope," he said with an amusing lilt which earned him a sound slap on the shoulder.

They climbed the stairs in silence, both offering silent prayers that all who had retired were already tucked into their own beds and well asleep. He kept his promise to stay close to her, almost tripping several times as they found themselves rounding the corner at the end of the female servants' quarters. "I don't think it's necessary for you to be THAT close, Mr. Carson," she whispered through a smile. "And I think you're quite wrong, Mrs. Car- HUGHES," he almost shouted as they ran headlong into Anna.

Anna nearly jumped out of her skin. "Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes! Forgive me, but you made me jump!" Anna could only speak through a giggle, forced out of nervousness. She had only just left her room to get a glass of water and surely didn't plan on running, quite literally, into both of her superiors.

Especially Mr. Carson. That was odd, indeed.

"No, forgive us Anna. I was just escorting Mrs. Hughes to her room as she had a bit of a turn and I didn't feel it right to let her ascend the stairs alone." The excuses were coming easier and easier these days.

"You should have called on me, Mr. Carson. I would have come down right away." Anna was the young mother hen. She certainly held Elsie's most cherished attributes. Charles always thought so.

Anna reached out to take Mrs. Hughes's arm and lead her down to her room. "I'll take over from here, Mr. Carson."

Oh God. What now?

"That's quite alright Anna. There's a matter that we needed to discuss that simply cannot wait until the morning. I'll see to make our meeting short and get her into bed post haste."

Elsie bit the inside of her cheek hard to keep from smiling. "I bet he will," she thought, thankfully not aloud.

"If you're certain, Mr. Carson. Please let me know if you need me to take on any extra duties for you tomorrow Mrs. Hughes." Anna offered a sweet smile, but her eyes almost betrayed her. She knew something more was going on here, but she didn't dare breech privacy. She was good at that, and she knew it. She would keep her own wonderings private as well. Curious, but private.

"I will Anna, thank you," Elsie tried to sound as weak as possible, fighting the amusement that plagued her in the moment.

"Goodnight then," she chirped as she took the stairs, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"How many close calls are we in for tonight," he wondered aloud as they quickly made their way to her bedroom door.

"That, I cannot say, but you did tell Anna that we had matters to discuss… in my room," she said, the laughter now sparkling from her eyes instead escaping her lips.

"That I did, and so we must," he said gleefully as she opened her door, grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him in forcefully.

He took the keys from her pocket, gently closed the door and locked it, giving the knob a little twist for good measure.

**A/N Little things are starting to leak out, bit by bit. I hope you stick with it; hopefully all will be worth it in the end! **


	5. Chapter 5

**And now for something a little bit different... A little glimpse into Anna Bates Investigates, perhaps?**

**Again, they most certainly aren't mine, but I sure love borrowing them! :)**

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 5

Anna picked the brush up from the small table, her thoughts returning to the previous night as she rhythmically ran it through her tresses. They had been so close. She had tried to make Mr. Bates realize that nothing he could have ever done in the past would ever impact how she had come to see him now. The gentleness with which he held her hand, allowing her to come to him, leaning in so slowly and carefully...

The noise had made them jump, break apart; the memory of it reawakening her now. What was she going to say to him? What was left to say? As her mind whirred with the heavy thoughts of seeing him for the first time since, another funny little memory unsuspectingly seeped in, causing her to smile.

Always look for the good, Anna. Always remember the happy things.

As she began to dress, she thought of Mr. Carson and his overprotective nature towards Mrs. Hughes at the end of the evening. And that meeting? What could have been so urgent that they would still have to meet despite her being unwell? What was so pressing that it couldn't wait until morning... and had to be discussed in her room?

Anna had always had her suspicions regarding Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Though strict employers, they were always fair and often very caring if you knew how to read them correctly. Living and working at Downton had always seemed to feel like being part of a family, however unconventional it might have been on the surface.

In all honesty, she knew that her easy camaraderie with Mr. Bates was very much influenced by what she had always seen between Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. She longed to have such a confidant; when Mr. Bates arrived, it all just seemed to fall into place. Above all else, she knew that she loved him and couldn't help but sense that those feelings weren't unique to the two of them.

There was this simple sense of intuition of course, but there was also something else. Anna had begun to notice a trend arising at breakfast. Always possessing an eye for detail, she had spotted something unusual starting to appear shortly after the time the fair had come to town.

Mrs. Hughes regularly displayed a distinct mark on her left ring finger.

An unobservant eye would never have noticed, but Anna had a way of noticing everything. It was simply her way. Ever since she was a small child, she had the keen ability to detect the smallest details; when she would point them out, others would rarely see them or care to fuss over the knowledge as she would. Their disinterest resulted in her eventually keeping new findings to herself. Ultimately this led to a great ability to become a cherished confidant to many.

It was only a slight indentation, tinged a slight pinkish hue, and was always gone by mid-morning. Anna only ever saw it during breakfast, never at any other time of day. Still, a mark on the left ring finger could only mean one thing.

As she descended the stairs to make her way to the servants' hall, she made a note to watch Mrs. Hughes closely. It couldn't hurt to take a gander at Mr. Carson either, she thought with a giggle.

Anna arrived only behind Thomas and Ms. O'Brien. Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes filtered in shortly after the group of hall boys and undermaids. Mr. Bates had yet to appear. She honestly didn't know if she would have rather come in later herself or had it this way. No bother, she had other things to focus on.

"Good morning Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson," she said cheerfully. "I trust your meeting meant well," she thought with a smile, but dared not speak out loud.

There was the mark. Lo and behold, on this particular morning, Mr. Carson donned a matching one.

Eureka.

Mr. Bates quietly made his way to the table. Anna could easily tell that he was reluctant to see her, though all her own feelings of nervousness resulting from the night before were washed away by the observations of the morning. She smiled and greeted him warmly as she normally did at breakfast, excited about sharing her newfound discoveries. Normally, she would keep the information to herself, but if there was anything that she was sure of it was that John Bates was more than capable of keeping secrets. As a result, she found herself wanting to share all of hers with him.

Comforted by her ability to carry on as nothing had happened, Mr. Bates relaxed into their normal routine. Lady Mary's and Lord Grantham's bells conveniently began to ring at the same time. They both excused themselves from breakfast and began to ascend the stairs together, closely together, causing Elsie to nonchalantly tilt her head in their direction, giving Charles a slight smirk with raised eyebrows. Regarding her out of the corner of his eye, he reached over underneath the table, sliding his hand over her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze.

When they were well up the flight of stairs, Anna leaned over to Mr. Bates, bumping his shoulder with her own, shooting him a little grin. It was a kind relief that she was being so playful after the tense events of the previous evening, but it did make him wonder. "What has gotten into you," he whispered warmly, intrigued by just what her answer could be.

"You'll never believe what I've seen."


	6. Chapter 6

**A bit of a memory… and a possible set up for some more anxious moments!**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 6

The day could not end fast enough. Between dealing with the business regarding Mr. Bates and his Lordship's decision to send Anna with Mrs. Patmore to the specialist in London, Elsie and Charles were thoroughly exhausted. Since Anna and Mrs. Patmore would be leaving promptly in the morning, Elsie found herself furiously attempting to determine a way to delegate duties whilst causing the least amount of grousing from the staff. She knew that in the case of Sarah O'Brien, it was a fruitless effort, but she would deal with that later. At the moment, her eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier, dragging her down into a reluctant rest.

Charles knew that wine was a bad idea this evening. He was exceptionally drained from dealing with Thomas's relentless attacks on Mr. Bates' character as well as assisting his Lordship in determining a suitable option for temporarily replacing Mrs. Patmore during her trip to London. He was honestly worried for the cook's future, all dependent on the outcome of the surgery, which dealt its own blow to his caring nature, further impacting the exhaustion of the day.

Elsie had already sent Mrs. Patmore and Anna to bed, preparing them for the early travel hour that awaited them. The other servants were slowly filtering out of the hall, up the stairs and into their beds. Charles knew that if he did not go now, he would most likely fall asleep at his desk. He moved into the kitchen deciding that he would exchange their usual end of the evening glass of port for some warm milk, with a few aspirins thrown in for good measure.

As he slowly opened the door, backing his way in to accommodate both him and the tray, he looked over to find Elsie asleep at her desk. She was sitting straight up in the uncomfortable chair, pen rolled away from an open hand but with such relaxed beauty visible in her face that it nearly stopped his heart.

He had loved her for a long time, longer than he could even remember. After their first, hurried kiss in the store cupboard, they decidedly slowed down a bit, enjoying getting to know each other in a whole new way that only previously existed in their own imaginations. The sly looks, the slight touches… all the little things they were so used to hiding from each other, bursting forth into the open, but only to their own eyes. It was nothing that they hadn't been doing and experiencing for years, it was only now accomplished through new visions and open hearts.

He thought back to the day when his life would change forever. His Lordship had requested that Charles go into Ripon to retrieve a specialty wine, requested for sampling before order. Unknowingly, her Ladyship had requested that Elsie travel into Ripon to consult with a seamstress on a special order for Lady Edith on the same day. "Well this won't do at all," Elsie exclaimed, appalled at the idea of both heads of household leaving Downton to surely descend into chaos. Normally Charles would have vehemently agreed, but he was overwhelmed with the notion that this precarious situation could just lead to the happiest day of his life.

Charles was relieved when both his Lordship and her Ladyship refused to back down on their requests. Elsie was exasperated, and found Charles's agreeableness disconcerting, to say the least. Anna, just over being quite ill, had stepped up and offered to take on the responsibility of seeing to anything of urgency, much to O'Brien's chagrin. Elsie finally relented, reluctantly resigned to the fact that she couldn't argue the matter any further.

Charles retrieved two envelopes from his pantry, one containing the wine order, the other a document that would change everything. Elsie, clearly aggravated by the situation let out an exasperated sigh as they exited Downton, making their way to the car. The new chauffer, Branson, would deliver them into Ripon to complete their errands.

And to make a special stop, if Charles had any say in the matter.

Branson dropped them off in the Ripon town square. Charles suggested that he take some time to get to know the surrounding town, being new to the country. It would only enhance his knowledge for the job, and leave Charles some desperately required, and well-deserved, time alone with Elsie.

They completed their respective errands quickly and efficiently, leaving them a good three hours before Branson was set to return. "Why did you give him so long" Elsie wondered, a perturbed note in her voice, still afflicted with worry about their joint absence from the house. "I dare say, you are beginning to sound like me, my dear," Charles replied, a bit too much amusement seeping into his voice for her liking.

"Alright, out with it. What exactly are you up to Charles."

"Elsie," he said as he took one of her hands into his own. "We never get time to ourselves. Any of our time alone is rushed, hurried and hidden in dark corners. Forgive me if I want to walk with you, freely, in the sunshine without worry of speculation and gossip."

"You always do know just what to say," she sighed, closing her eyes and pausing briefly to cherish the moment.

"I do so hope that you'll still think so after what I'm about to suggest."

She turned to look at him with a decidedly raised eyebrow and questioning eyes.

"I think we should get married."

"Pardon," she replied, shaking her head in an effort to process what he had just said. She had surely thought of the prospect, many times, over their shared years together. Before they had declared their feelings for each other, she had always just assumed that they would retire together as amicable companions. She had never dared hope, even after knowing of their mutual love, that he would want to make if official.

Did she really not hear him? He began to fall nervous, second guessing the cleverness of his plan. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Just as he decided to pass it off as a joke, his heart made itself known, loudly fighting his rational thought. He had come this far; he was determined to convince her to join him.

"Elsie Hughes… I am asking you to be my wife."

"What? Today?" Elsie was incredulous.

"Today's a good a day as any," he said with a smile, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Now Charles, you can't simply decide to get married and actually follow through on it all at once! There are procedures. Licenses, rings… so many things to think of!"

"And you know my penchant for planning," he said, offering her the last remaining envelope that he had hidden in the lining of his coat.

Shocked and curious, she took the envelope from his hands and slowly began to run her index finger underneath the seal. He couldn't have.

Ever calm and controlled Elsie Hughes felt tears beckoning behind her eyes. In her hands, she held a marriage license.

"But Charles, when? When did you do this?"

"I have wanted to do it for years, but I couldn't well follow through on it without knowing that you returned my feelings… so I took it out the next day," he said with smiling eyes.

"But what if I don't want to get married," she said quietly.

Charles felt a crushing pain in his chest. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He hadn't thought that there might be a chance that she would refuse him.

"Well, I know that the situation isn't ideal and that we wouldn't be allowed to live as proper husband and wife but…"

"Charles!" Elsie put a hand on his chest to stop him from continuing. "After all these years, you should know me well enough to realize when I'm teasing," she said with a smirk.

He could kill her; for now, he would kiss her soundly, right in the middle of the street. Here they weren't reticent Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Here they were Charles and Elsie, free and deeply in love.

"Shall we," he asked as he pointed her in the direction of the registrar's office.

"So you are serious?"

"No, I'm teasing," he replied.

"Charles, this isn't funny. In fact, this is quite serious. Are you certain?" Elsie was afraid to hope that it was all this easy.

"You are holding the license in your hand, dear," he replied. "What else could make it more real? Oh, wait just a minute," he continued, clearly pleased with himself.

He grasped one of her hands and brought it over his rest on his hip.

"I am all for a quick kiss here and there, Charles, but this is going a bit far, especially for you!"

"No Elsie," he laughed loudly and pressed her hand against him harder.

She felt something hard against her palm. Yes, it was definitely small, hard and circular. No wait, there were two.

She couldn't help herself. She reached into his pocket, withdrawing two simple gold bands.

"Well aren't you full of surprises, Mr. Carson," she said, positively gleaming.

"If you had left your hand in my pocket any longer, MRS. Carson, I believe I would have had a surprise of a different sort to offer you," he growled into her ear, earning him an elbow to the gut.

"Mrs. HUGHES… for the next few minutes, at least," she smirked, leaning in to give him a brief kiss.

The next hour saw Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes pledging themselves to each other in front of God and a few anonymous witnesses in the Ripon Registrar's Office. Their relationship had always been run on a good dose of humourous fun, but this day revealed more emotions than either of them had felt confident in, or even possible of, sharing. There were some tears, all shed out of gratitude.

They had found each other, long ago, and would now undoubtedly remain together for life.

It wouldn't be easy. They would have to keep their newfound marital status a secret from everyone they knew. Easy displays of newlywed affection would not be possible which would surely prove trying.

Though everything about their lives was changing, nothing at home could change. They both understood this but were bound and determined to make it work. It was only natural to commit themselves to each other, both confident in the knowledge that there was no other option.

They met Branson a little over an hour after the ceremony, rings safely tucked into their clothing. They wouldn't be able to wear them, but they were tangible, solid evidence of their commitment to each other. He would buy her a special jewelry box, he decided, thinking to the future.

They had managed to keep up the ruse at Downton for months now, convinced that no one knew the wiser. If anyone did have any suspicions, they were never voiced. That definitely left Thomas and O'Brien out, he thought with a grin.

He continued into her parlour, depositing the tray soundlessly on her desk. He crossed over to the door, closing it gently in an effort not to wake her. He made his way back to her chair, longing to stroke the soft skin of her cheek, to unpin her hair, but not wishing to disturb her well-deserved slumber. Gently, he scooped her up into his arms, bringing her over to and depositing her carefully on the settee. Sidling in close, he let her unconsciously nestle into him, intending to steal this precious moment to tenderly watch her slumber.

He was asleep within seconds.


	7. Chapter 7

**I broke this chapter up into two parts. Anna's wheels are still turning...**

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 7

Anna had retired early, filling up the modest suitcase she had first brought to Downton and would now take with her to London. She wanted to have everything set as to delay rising any earlier than need be for the already frightfully early train departure. She allowed her heart to hope that Mr. Bates would arise to let her offer him one last farewell, but dismissed the thoughts as quickly as they had come, thinking them a bit young and selfish.

In truth, she was nervous and excited to make such a journey, grateful that Mrs. Patmore would not be left alone to worry and that she was deemed an appropriate guardian. She smiled at the thought, the woman easily twice her age and as strong-willed as they come. She knew that Mrs. Patmore was worried though; who wouldn't be terrified of losing their sight and possibly their livelihood along with it.

As she entered the servants' hall, the sun just beginning to peek through the windows, she cherished the silence and solitude of the moment. The hall always seemed to be loud and busy, its inhabitants constantly bustling about with harried business of one sort or another. Though she knew it was still early, she had thought that she might catch Mrs. Hughes about, wishing to tell her goodbye as well. Anna had seen the worry and the fatigue creeping in to both Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson over the last few days. Goodness knows that Anna was worried about Mr. Bates's fate more than anyone, but she was not the one that would have to deal the blow, if it came down to that.

Mrs. Patmore had since come down, taking a seat at the dining table without a word. Her worn and faded bag was packed to the brim with what little she had, a small bible peeking out from a small opening in the top. Anna felt for the woman, so uncharacteristically silent and withdrawn. She would try her best to find a way to bring her any small cheer during their journey.

As she lied a hand on Mrs. Patmore's shoulder, she broke the gloom. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." the cook's normal shrieking tone had been replaced by an unsettling murmur.

"Well, let's be off then. Just give me a moment to find Mrs. Hughes and then we'll set out." She gently placed both hands on Mrs. Patmore's shoulders and leant down to whisper in her ear. "Everything is going to be alright. You'll see."

"That girl and her unfailing hope," thought Mrs. Patmore silently as she stared into the corner, willing the seconds to stretch on just a little longer.

By now, Daisy had come down to collect the tools she would need to light the fires. That meant she had already knocked on doors, waking the others, Anna noted. There wouldn't be much time, but she needed to find Mrs. Hughes. She wouldn't rest if she couldn't offer her a small thank you for standing with her on the matter, unfailingly believing in Mr. Bates.

She took to the stairs, anxiety building. Where could she be? In all her years at Downton, Anna never knew Mrs. Hughes to be unknowingly absent during the early morning hustle and bustle. She reached her bedroom door and hesitantly knocked.

No answer.

Perhaps she was in her parlour. Anna shook her head, wondering why she hadn't thought of that earlier but was then reminded of the early hour at which she had been in the hall. Mrs. Hughes wouldn't have been expected to have been awake at that time, regardless of the travel planned for Anna and Mrs. Patmore. She had already gone over the timetables and details with them the night before, and with that covered, she wouldn't have to be up with them at the crack of dawn.

No.

It couldn't be.

Now she needed to find Mr. Bates.

As she hurriedly descended the stairs, her mind began whirring with her recent discovery. She had told Mr. Bates what she had observed in the mornings, knowing that he would keep it private. "Private, not secret," as she had said when she had stuck up for Gwen's ambitions. A man of few words and no patience for undermining others, Mr. Bates admitted that he had always wondered about the two of them himself, noting their ease of exchange, the fluid nature of their management of both the house and those under their care, and all of those little moments that he now found himself indulging in with Anna. He had never said anything as it was none of his business, but he did not mind discussing something privately that obviously brought Anna so much joy.

Clearing the bottom step, she failed to see him right in front of her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of being nearly knocked to the floor this morning," he laughed, his eyes crinkling as only they did for Anna.

Her face became quite serious in that moment. "It's nearly time for me to leave, and I can't find Mrs. Hughes anywhere!"

"Didn't she give you all the details for your journey last night?" John had been standing right there when she had, or at least he thought he had been. Anna asking him if he would miss her did nothing to clarify his thoughts as to any previous events of the evening.

"Yes, but I think something might be wrong." He could tell that she was beginning to worry. He hated to see her worried; it was all she seemed to do lately and mostly due to him.

"Why would you say that?"

"I just went to her room, and she's not there." Anna had started to wring her hands. She was indeed worried.

"Did you check her parlour?"

"No. I honestly don't believe that she would be in there. I was up with the lark this morning and there was no sign of her down here." He knew that she had an idea. Anna was always full of ideas.

"What is it that you're thinking then?"

Anna blushed. The thought of it made her happy and nervous all at the same time. She never knew two more deserving people but also worried about what it all might mean if the wrong people were to find out.

"Obviously she's not awake. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Mr. Carson either..."

"You don't think..."

"Ah, but I do." Anna abruptly whispered. "I think she might be in Mr. Carson's room."


	8. Chapter 8

**Where are Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes? It's nearly half past seven and Anna's got a train to catch... **

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 8

Anna was well-aware that time was short, but this new development had set her heart racing. In one fell swoop, life at Downton could be changed forever. Who could say what might happen if Mr. Carson and Mrs... Carson... were to be found out. With Thomas and O'Brien constantly scheming and plotting, it was only a matter of time, and with the events unfolding as they were this morning, that time could regrettably be now.

They couldn't let it happen.

She reached for Mr. Bates's arm and spoke steadily in a hushed tone. "You have to go up to Mr. Carson's room. I surely can not without looking suspicious."

Mr. Bates was beginning to realize the seriousness of the situation, as well as the follies that lied ahead. "Anna, by the time I reach Mr. Carson's room, you should be well on your way to the train station." He never enjoyed admitting to the difficulties he had physically in dealing with the grand house, even to Anna. "In fact, you should have already left by now. Why don't you go and check the parlour? I'll hang about the end of the hall, within sight, in case you need me."

Anna puffed out her cheeks, slowly letting out a long breath. "I guess it wouldn't hurt. Good Lord, I do hope that we find them before anyone else does."

"That is why I am suggesting you go now. If she is asleep in her parlour, you will surely find her before anyone else. Mr. Carson is always up and about early; there's no telling where he might be." He said it, but he knew as well as anyone that on any other day, both heads of household would surely have made their dominant presence known by now.

Anna discreetly hustled down the hall, only once glancing over her shoulder, bottom lip bitten, to be sure that Mr. Bates was still there. He smiled at her, cocked his head towards the parlour door, waving his hand signaling her to continue on. She knocked quietly; without hearing any sort of reply, she quickly turned the knob and peeked her head in the door.

There, dead to the world, lie Mr. and Mrs. Carson.

"Hughes, Anna! Mrs. Hughes," she silently reminded herself, hoping never to trip up in front of any other company, though she felt all her imaginings were now staring her straight in the face.

She withdrew her head from the doorway, swinging her wide eyes back to Mr. Bates. "Both," she mouthed with a nod. "What," he gestured with his hands as he shook his head, confused. "Both of them," she mouthed slowly.

Now what?

She knew that she had to get them out of there and fast, but how? She was already overdue to leave for the train, though Mrs. Patmore seemed less than fussed about any possible delay. She was too beside herself with worry to mind the time.

"What do we do?" Anna gestured frantically to Mr. Bates, just as O'Brien rounded the corner.

"Would you mind, Mr. Bates. I have to see Mrs. Hughes," she said in her usual joyful morning manner. That is, if joyful were to mean spitting tacks.

Anna could have fainted on the spot. She quickly entered the parlor, shutting the door behind her.

How could they still be asleep? Maybe they had had too much wine during their nightly meeting. Maybe they were worn out from more than reviewing household issues. Anna chided herself for allowing her imagination to run wild in such a desperate moment.

She had left Mr. Bates alone to deal with Ms. O'Brien. Oh God, please let him find a way to stall her, she thought as she crossed over to the settee.

So many emotions were flowing through her in the moment. She was awash in joy, amusement, and happiness... but also dread, fear and embarrassment, knowing that the only solution to the problem was to wake them and formulate a new plan.

Meanwhile, Mr. Bates had just told O'Brien that Mrs. Hughes had requested an early meeting with Anna to go over the travel itinerary for the day. "But they already discussed that last night," she argued. Of course she would have overheard that. There was nothing that either O'Brien or Thomas didn't overhear in the house, it seemed. "Discussed what," followed an invisible grumble from just beyond the doorway.

Thomas. Of course. Could this day get any better?

Anna knew that she was treading on very thin ice here. She fought to figure out the least upsetting way to awaken her two sleeping superiors, but the immediacy of the situation pushed on, forcing her to jump straight in.

"Mrs. Hughes?" Anna ventured, gently shaking the woman's shoulder, which lie resting against that of her husband.

"Hmmm? Is that you Anna," she murmured slowly through closed eyes.

"Maybe they're unwell. Quite unwell, indeed," thought Anna as both Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson remained reluctant to stir. She reached a hand to drape over the older woman's forehead to feel for irregular warmth.

"Yes Mrs. Hughes. I'm here, and I need you to wake up," she pressed on. "NOW, if I dare say!"

The unusual forcefulness of Anna's voice cut through the fatigue.

Elsie's eyes snapped open, processing her surroundings. She was still in her parlour but not in her chair. Anna was dressed not for work but for traveling. She felt as if there were a furnace resting against her back.

Oh no.

She sat up like a shot, though realizing that it was too late. She glanced back at Charles, still sound asleep. She could not remember what had happened last night past her review of the rota, but there he was, with her, lying on a settee...

All in front of Anna.

"Heavens girl! What could be so pressing that you pushed in to my parlour?" Elsie was startled alright and the only thing her mind could come up with in its shockingly roused state was to throw up an offense rather than defensively try to explain.

Anna understood all too well the reaction that was beginning to spill forth. She could not bring herself to take offense to being chided, nor did the situation allow for lengthy explanations.

"Mrs. Hughes, you will have to forgive me, but there is neither a need or time for explanations at the moment." Elsie could see that Anna was visibly shaken. Perhaps even more so than her own stomach was causing her to feel as her mind continued to awaken. "We have got to get you out of here."

Elsie looked at the bright spot of light shining onto the carpet. "What time is it Anna?"

"It's nearly half past seven, Mrs. Hughes."

Dear Lord, half the morning had gotten away from them. How in heaven's name had they managed to sleep that long? Surely their absence had to have been noted by now and wonderings started to be spread.

"Oh Anna," sighed Mrs. Hughes. "I don't know what to say."

"Nothing Mrs. Hughes. Nothing is necessary." Anna squeezed Elsie's hand. "I regret to say that we must get Mr. Carson going though if we are ever to get you out of this unscathed."

How were they ever going to manage getting out of this one? Sleeping on the settee did nothing for their clothing. Both sported masses of wrinkles, once masquerading as a pressed suit and frock. Their formerly fixed hair was wild with restless sleep.

They had to manage to get up to their rooms, but how?

Elsie couldn't bring herself to wake Charles with the knowledge that Anna had caught them in a compromising position. The women decided it would indeed be best for them to keep that to themselves. After formulating a very hasty, and very risky plan, Anna exited the room, heading purposely for Mr. Bates, who she now saw was joined by a rather perturbed O'Brien and Thomas.

Perfect.

"So how is the battleaxe, this morning," O'Brien asked, a tiny hint of tentativeness springing forth in her voice. Anna knew she could use this to her advantage and thanked whatever angels seemed to be looking out for them in the moment. "She's in a right snit!" Anna spoke angrily, out of character enough that O'Brien took it to mean that Mrs. Hughes was decidedly disagreeable and that her trivial complaint could wait if it meant getting the back hand of a hateful attitude at this early hour.

"Shouldn't you be off already Anna?" Thomas asked, still nosing about. "What business of it is yours?" Anna always managed to deal it back, and quite well, Mr. Bates noted with a smile. It was one of the things he loved best about her.

Once Thomas had turned back towards the servants' hall, following O'Brien to breakfast, Anna grabbed Mr. Bates by the elbow. "I'm going to create a diversion. I need you to go alert Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes when the coast is clear." Though the situation was tense indeed, she loved the feeling that it was giving her. She felt scared and nervous, but most of all, she felt alive.

She turned Mr. Bates around so that he was facing down the hallway towards Mrs. Hughes's parlour. "Whatever you hear from the hall, do NOT come for me."

Anna was always full of surprises.

All at once there was a great clatter followed by Gwen screaming out Anna's name. "I'll get a cloth," O'Brien offered with her flat affect, though her hurried pace to the kitchen caused a crushing pain in Mr. Bates's chest. "This had better be part of her plan," he thought to himself as he made a note to later scold her for causing him to worry.

Mr. Bates came upon the parlour door just as O'Brien pushed back into the servants' hall. The corridor was most decidedly empty; Mr. Bates gave a determined knock on the door. It swung open, revealing a rather disheveled Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson standing just beyond, head lowered, eyes closed and furiously rubbing his forehead.

Mr. Bates gave Mrs. Hughes a knowing nod, both of them realizing that no words were necessary and that time was of the essence. He made his way back off to the servants' hall to reinforce whatever it was that Anna was doing, hoping that all the commotion was indeed part of her plan and not some unforeseen accident.

His heart lurched when he saw her splayed out on the cold floor. Gwen was squeezing her hand, urging her to wake up whilst O'Brien was pressing a cold cloth onto her forehead. He never thought he'd live to see the day.

"And where have you been," Thomas all but roared in his direction. Anna took that as her cue and began to slowly open her eyes. "Oh Anna, are you alright," Daisy asked as she stooped down to look Anna in the eye.

"I'm fine, but I don't remember deciding to take a nap on the floor," she offered with a decidedly fake, weak smile. Right then and there Mr. Bates decided that he most definitely would get her back for this one day.

Naughty girl.

"Are you sure you are quite alright enough to travel," started Mrs. Patmore. "We could always ask his Lordship if we might delay the trip." No matter what else was going on in this house, Anna would not let Mrs. Patmore delay this special journey. She would get better and return to work at Downton for many years to come if Anna had anything to say about it.

"I believe so, Mrs. Patmore. We must be off straight away though if we are going to make our train," she said raising with Gwen's help.

"Are you sure you are alright," O'Brien asked, the slight tone of caring present in her voice causing Anna and Mr. Bates a bit of unease.

"Yes. Thank you Ms. O'Brien." Anna wiped her hands over her coat. "Mr. Bates, I wonder if you could assist me for a moment."

"Anna, you were doing so well. Don't ruin it now," thought Mr. Bates as he joined her in the hall. Anna knew full well that by asking him to join her, O'Brien and Thomas would be listening just beyond sight. She took the opportunity to spin a tale that just might save Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, at least for the time being.

She spoke at a normal volume, telling him that Mrs. Hughes was attending to a very urgent matter regarding a linen vendor and was not to be disturbed. Mr. Carson was also busy with a request from his Lordship, which Mr. Bates willingly corroborated nicely.

After the events of the morning, Anna could not bear to leave Mrs. Hughes without giving her some sort of reassurance. With everyone else nicely settled at the breakfast table, she told Mrs. Patmore to be ready to leave in the shake of a lamb's tail as she invisibly took the stairs two at a time up to the female servants' quarters. She insistently knocked upon Mrs. Hughes's door, announcing her identity forthright.

Elsie opened the door and looked at her with a mixture of thankfulness and shame. "Shouldn't you have left by now Anna? You are most surely going to be running the platform and jumping for the car at this rate, and I'm not sure Mrs. Patmore could handle that." Thankfully she still had her sense of humour.

"It's not shameful to want to keep things private, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said quietly, hoping that Elsie would understand that Anna would never reveal anything she had found or heard in confidence.

Elsie gave her an appreciative nod, a look of sincere gratitude settling across her features.

Anna was their dearest one.

A shared look was all that was required. As Anna turned to leave, Mrs. Hughes gently grasped her wrist.

"I think it would serve you well to do a little detective work in London, my dear," she offered her with a gentle squeeze.


	9. Chapter 9

**A bit of a sad chapter, I'm afraid, but necessary to set the scene and account for a time jump. (I also took a slight liberty to move a conversation up in the canon timeline... Elsie admits her eavesdropping to Charles before Mr. Bates leaves.) **

**I am so thankful for the reviews and suggestions. Thanks for sticking in there! Hopefully they'll be back to their fun and frisky ways very soon!**

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 9

Anna had indeed done her own bit of detective work whilst she was in London looking after Mrs. Patmore. New knowledge brought about answers to previously unasked questions and ultimately delivered her to the doorstep of Mr. Bates's mother. Upon her return to Downton, she not only informed his Lordship what she had come to know in London but also chose to share what she had learned with Mrs. Hughes, knowing that if anyone in the house were to champion the cause of keeping him on, it would be her. Besides, Mrs. Hughes would surely tell Mr. Carson, which would undoubtedly deepen the sentiment and perhaps finally give Thomas a little of what was due back to him for causing so much trouble.

Two years had gone by as quickly as they had come, the war changing both everything and nothing all at once. Charles was reticent to keep standards at their highest level, despite the missing staff. He often overworked himself in to such a state that Elsie was sure he would collapse from exhaustion or worse. She remained the cool, rational head of the household, refusing to carry on as if the world were falling about their shoulders due to a missing footman or maid here or there.

Anna and Mr. Bates were flourishing nicely despite their situation. He was indeed still married, but only due to the fact that his estranged, yet unfaithful, wife refused to grant him a divorce. Elsie felt deeply for Anna, knowing that she was torn between what was right and experiencing a sincere, true love. Though their situations were far from similar, they both had to choose, their secrets ultimately winning out.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Elsie knew that when Anna had taken on the role of head housemaid of Downton that she had written the possibility of love out of her life, just as she herself had so many years ago. Everything changed with the arrival of John Bates. The side looks, the shy smiles, the easy rapport... it was all too familiar. Elsie often wondered if she realized that they were in love before either of them did. Perhaps it was indeed her own history which influenced her intuition.

After the death of his mother, Mr. Bates had returned to Downton and surprised them all with his intentions to marry Anna. The remaining staff had yet to know, thankfully and purposefully, but upon obtaining permission from Lord Grantham, Mr. Bates approached Charles and Elsie with his plans. Knowing how important procedure was to the two of them, he broached the subject in an honest and forthright manner. Of course, having his Lordship's blessing failed to hurt either.

They had all decided to keep it "private, not secret."

Truth be told, Elsie was over the moon. She had always only wanted the best for Anna. She wanted the best for all of those under their care. She thought back to Gwen and how upon hearing the news of her new job offer, she all but snapped in the girl's face to continue her work for the day. Yes, they had a job to do, but honestly Elsie had been a bit stunned and saddened to have her leaving so abruptly. She was happy for her, happy that life was changing and altering her as it had the rest of them, but a bit sad too. Gwen was a hard worker, but more than that, she had been with them since she was quite young; they had watched her grow with pride. Yes, she was but an employee, another face in their household, but an everyday, reliable face who would now be off into the world, making her own way.

Sometimes Elsie felt a bit wistful for the past, wondering how her life would have been different if she had indeed chosen another way. Would she have had children? She would have liked to have had children.

If she had chosen another life, she would never have met Charles. That was always the thought that brought her back.

Back to Downton. Back to William and Daisy and Anna. Back to Charles Carson.

Today they had received quite a shock when a mysterious woman with dark hair and eyes full of fire darkened their doorstep. The newest maid, Ethel had let her in, too easily loose with her tongue. She blamed it on the fact that this was Mr. Bates's wife.

Elsie had never seen Anna so pale.

She had Daisy prepare tea and put it in her parlour in order that Mr. Bates and that wretched woman Vera could have some privacy. From the mutterings already offered to wide-eyed and overly verbal Ethel, they would certainly need it. Never mind the affordance that Elsie could listen at the grating on the wall.

She didn't want to spy. She wanted to protect. No, she needed to protect. Anna was hers long before she belonged to Mr. Bates. Elsie had never experienced anything to sway her feelings for Mr. Bates from anything but honourable, but with this new, frightful situation at hand, she felt that she couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

What she heard at the grate turned her stomach. The hateful woman was planning on blackmailing Mr. Bates, and in turn the whole Grantham family. Mr. Bates became just shy of violent, his anger flaring in a way Elsie had never thought possible but did not blame him for in the slightest. That woman was as evil as Anna was pure. This would not end well.

Mr. Bates sought them out shortly after Vera had left. He told them, stiff and unfeeling, that he would be leaving in the morning. Elsie tried to argue with him, finally bringing Anna's name into the conversation. She knew that it was a low blow but felt there was no other way. He couldn't leave. It would kill Anna.

Mr. Bates refused to listen. He made Elsie's words unintelligible to his ears in order to save his own heart, which was splintering. He was awash in his own misery, broken and alone. He excused himself to meet with his Lordship, knowing that every meeting he was to have this evening would only cause more hurt and pain, to both himself and those he held dear.

"Did you see this coming because I didn't," Charles asked, overwhelmed with the new responsibilities he would have to see to and arrange henceforth as well as disappointment that Mr. Bates would leave so easily after all they had dealt with already regarding the questioning of his character and ability to do his job. Elsie confessed all, revealing her reasons for letting them have tea in her sitting room, her eavesdropping and most importantly, Vera's intention to blackmail the Granthams. Charles was shocked, disappointed, but immediately saw the honour in Mr. Bates's decision. Elsie couldn't bring herself to share the sentiment. All she could think of was Anna and wonder how she would ever pick up the pieces.

Elsie knew the moment was coming. She did not want to pry but could not help herself. She needed to see the damage that would occur in order to accurately assess how to tend to it. As Anna strode over to the backdoor, Elsie excused herself with the reason of checking on stock for tomorrow's dinner.

Charles caught her out of the corner of his eye. Anna had just bolted outside with Elsie sneaking off to the store cupboard. This couldn't be good.

Elsie moved the stepstool to the window and slowly climbed atop, her face peering out into the night. A single tear silently fell over her cheek as she watched the scene she had prayed to keep away unfolding just outside the pane. Anna was crying out to Mr. Bates, offering any words and all morality for him to stay. His face was an unemotional mask as he begged her to forget him.

Just last night they had discussed their future with such joy. Elsie had been leaving her parlour and overheard them talking in the servants' hall. Why did she always have to be within earshot? She had loved hearing that conversation though, as opposed to the horrid one she bared witness to this afternoon.

She had never seen Anna so happy as she had when they had mentioned children. Even Mr. Bates was smiling from ear to ear. How could one day change everything so drastically? The world was most certainly falling about their ears.

Charles had snuck into the pantry, closing the door silently behind him. He watched Elsie from the door, her skin so very pale in the moonlight with the slightest sliver of shine trailing down her cheek. She had one hand raised to her mouth, the other holding onto the windowsill for dear life.

He crossed over to her, wrapping his arms about her waist. She was not startled in the least, only grateful that he should have caught her at this moment. She found that she needed a support of the strongest order, as did their little bird just outside the window.

As Anna fought the wracking sobs alone in the cold, Elsie collapsed onto Charles. She always wore the front of a strict matriarch, but he was the one person who knew better. He gently turned her away from the pane, tucking her head under his chin and running a soothing, yet strong, hand up and down her back, urging her to release all that she was holding in.

She was his Scottish lass, full of fire and fury, but those who feel emotions the strongest tend to feel them all in equal measure. It's who they choose to share them with that ultimately counts in the end.


	10. Chapter 10

**A bit of a scare always leads you back to what's most important…**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 10

Elsie had never seen Charles so stressed. Mr. Bates was now gone, and with Thomas at the front and William training, he had to enlist the assistance of new valet Mr. Lang to serve at the table. The man obviously carried scars from the war, but those of the most damaging, internal kind. Mr. Lang was far from steady, but Charles refused to have maids in the dining room, always placing the style of a dinner at the top of his list of priorities.

Tonight, Elsie would hear the cries before she realized what was happening. Her heart seized in her chest as she rounded the corner and saw Charles clutching at his own. Dear Lord, he's having a heart attack.

The overwhelming fear that was coursing through her veins was masked only by anger. "I told him that this would happen," her head screamed as the family crowded around to be of assistance. Lady Sybil and Isobel were minding to him. It wouldn't do to get in their way, and Charles would be beside himself with the knowledge that he had caused such a commotion. She would fix the dinner situation, if only to save him any additional stress.

Dr. Clarkson was called upon immediately. He determined that it was a simple attack of exhaustion, far less serious than a heart attack. Nevertheless, Elsie would certainly be sure to chide him about slowing down for the hundredth time this week. How dare he frighten her like that.

Elsie would never admit to it, but she knew full well that they were both getting older, no matter how strongly they wished to ignore the fact. A heart attack would not be out of the ordinary for someone of Charles's age, without the stress. They had been married just shy of two years; she wished for many more to come.

As she came to his room, medicine in hand, she opened the door to find none other than Lady Mary. She never understood his adoration for and complete devotion to the eldest Crawley daughter. Charles constantly regaled Elsie with tales from Lady Mary's childhood, trying to sway her to his views, but she had always had difficulty seeing past the selfish front that the heiress seemed to unfailingly sport in mixed company.

"Carson was just boosting my confidence," Lady Mary offered as she left, closing the door behind her.

"That's something I'd never have thought she was short of."

"Now dearest…" Charles started. She waved a dismissive hand in his direction indicating that the matter was as good as dropped.

"Now then, Dr. Clarkson left this for you." Elsie began to pour the liquid into a spoon as Charles started to stir. He could be as bad as a petulant child when he was sick. "You will take it, if I have to hold your nose and force it down."

"But Elsie, it is completely unnecessary. I am just tired, that is all."

"Charles Carson, you will take this medicine, and you will take it now."

He knew that further arguing the matter was useless. He never could win when it came to his headstrong wife. That didn't mean that he couldn't have a little fun with her in the meanwhile.

"Is that right," he grumbled, feigning indignation. "Or what?"

"Are you seriously asking me what will happen to you?" She was becoming quite perturbed. "Well, if your nerves won't get you, your heart certainly will, and I cannot believe you'd saddle me with that burden." He hadn't counted on her becoming serious. Elsie had a great sense of humour, but after the events of the evening, he was coming to realize that she wasn't in the mood to play games.

"Elsie, love, I was just pulling your leg. Don't tell me that you are actually worried."

"That's just it Charles, I AM worried. You have worked yourself into such a state, constantly ignoring my warnings, and now look at you. Bedridden!"

Bedridden. The word stung terribly. He had been foolish enough to get himself to a place where he would be of no use to anyone, scaring his dear wife in the process. The shame that previously existed towards his professional predicament now seeped into his personal one.

"Come here," he said, patting the bed covers. "I'll be a good boy," he said with a grin, opening his mouth for the spoonful of whatever putrid cure-all Dr. Clarkson had left. Elsie sat on the bed and unceremoniously shoved the spoon into his mouth, leaving it to hang from his lips.

She stood up and started heatedly pacing the room. "Charles, don't think that this is easily solved by turning on your boyish charm. Do you have any idea how scared you left me? To think all that I could do was take over for you, barking orders so that you wouldn't be disappointed in the dinner." She stood to face him, hands on hips. "I couldn't even stand with you." Her face was beginning to tighten; he knew that she was fighting, hard. "What if you had…"

"Elsie. Please come back here." Charles beckoned her with the soft eyes he only used when mired in deepest sincerity. She reluctantly crossed back over to the bed but sat in the armchair, not on the quilt. "I don't know what to say to make you feel better," he sighed, hanging his head.

"I just wish you would realize that you are not 20 years old anymore!" She was still cross, but he was well aware that it was springing from concern, and fear, fear that he had caused.

"I deeply regret worrying you so," he ventured gently, turning his head to regard her directly.

"I just wish you would listen to me every once in a while," she pushed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "You know I couldn't bear it if…"

"Elsie. Seeing as I would have great difficulty getting up from here, not that I can't mind you, rather I'm afraid of what you might do to me if I tried, would you please come sit by me?"

"I am sitting by you." Oh, she most certainly was mad.

"Here," he said, patting the bed covers once more. "Please."

"Why? So you can try and have your way with me?" Did he detect a slight note of wit in her tone?

"You know under any other circumstance, you would be right on the nose my dear, but I have a feeling that Dr. Clarkson might take offense to such activities."

"Is he watching through the window?" He was amazed. She was beginning to come round. Of course, this was his Elsie.

"Last I knew, that was your specialty," Charles said, eyebrows raised.

That earned him a sound smack to the shoulder but got him exactly what he wanted. Elsie was sitting on the bed and now holding his hand. "You know how much I hate it when we fight."

Charles laughed. "And here, all this time, I thought you lived for it."

"Forgive me, Mr. Carson, but I would very much appreciate if you were around to try and get me into bed for many years to come," she said tenderly, taking his hand.

He brought her hand to his lips, first kissing the back followed by the palm, then guiding it to rest upon his cheek. She lifted her other hand to stroke his other cheek, drawing his head to hers for a gentle, but thorough, kiss.

"I know that the bed is small, love, but will you mind staying with me, at least for a little while?"

"Like the size of this bed has ever stopped us before," she laughed. "In fact, if Dr. Clarkson weren't watching through the window…"

"Very funny, dear, very funny," he groaned, allowing Elsie to nestle in next to him. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, allowing him to wrap his arms fully around her. "Is this alright," she asked softly, hoping to heaven that he would be agreeable. After the events of the evening, she could do for a good lie down as well.

"More than alright, I dare say," Charles mumbled as he kissed the top of her head. "I just wish it were more of a permanent allowance."

And with that, a knock fell upon the door.

"Why?" Elsie moaned as she dragged herself up off the bed. "Who the devil would think of visiting you at this time of night?"

"Well Ms. O'Brien has been after me for years."

She shot him a pointed glare, shook her head and smiled. Cheeky.

"It's late Charles. I shouldn't even be in here. I'll go hide behind the door, you tell whoever it is to come in."

Sometimes she wondered if they would have to play these games for the rest of their lives.

"Come in," Charles called out towards the door.

The door opened, just slightly, a little blonde head peeking in. "It's just me, Anna, Mr. Carson. I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling any better?"

Anna. Even with a broken heart, that girl still carried on caring for everyone else.

"I am feeling much better, thank you Anna. I just need some rest."

"Yes, of course," she replied, a bit embarrassed for dropping in at the late hour. She hadn't been sleeping well since Mr. Bates had left. By knocking quietly, she knew that if Mr. Carson were to have been asleep, he wouldn't have answered. Besides, Mrs. Hughes wasn't in her room and hadn't been seen since she had left Dr. Clarkson with the medicine. Anna was actually a bit surprised that she wasn't in here with him.

Unless…

"Well then, I'll be off. Do let me know if you need anything. I can always get Mrs. Hughes if you'd rather," she said noting Charles's smile aimed just slightly over her shoulder.

"Will do, Anna. Thank you again." He nodded with gratitude in her direction.

"Goodnight then Mr. Carson," she said.

And with the quietest voice she could muster, veiled in the slightest hint of a giggle, Anna closed the door with one last wish.

"Goodnight Mrs. Hughes."


	11. Chapter 11

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 11

As the door closed with a click, Charles whipped his head to Elsie, fully expecting her to mirror his own shocked expression. What he found was her head lowered, shaking back and forth, a laugh pressing hard against her firmly closed lips. She couldn't hide or hold it in anymore, the amusement escaping in small little bursts directly out her nostrils.

"Now just what was THAT all about?" he thundered, as quietly as his deep baritone would allow.

"Now Charles Carson, don't you go worrying yourself over nothing. It certainly won't help the situation," she offered, waving a hand in his direction, crossing back over to the bed.

"What do you mean nothing? If I heard correctly, Anna sounded well aware of the fact that you were somewhere in my room. Why wouldn't I be concerned?"

"Do think about that," she said seriously as she sat upon the spread. "When has Anna ever revealed someone else's private business? That girl is nothing if not loyal to a fault. Besides, it has been far too long since this house has been graced with her laughter."

"Yes, but how did she know," he asked, his face registering a mixture of panic, curiosity and irritation. "You didn't…"

"No, I most certainly did not tell her," Elsie began slowly becoming lost in thought. "Yes, I will admit that it would be nice to have another woman to confide in, and yes, I do love Anna, probably more than I should, but how unprofessional would that have been? I am just as reticent and reserved as you when it comes to personal matters. You should know that, Charles."

He reached out for her, drawing her back down to recline in his arms.

"That I do, Elsie. That I do." He trailed his hand lovingly up and down her arm. "Look how long it took us to get to this point." He knew that the next bit of conversation would take a fragile hand. "I also know that it can't be easy for you."

"What can't be easy?"

"To have a house full of children that you cannot treat as such."

She tensed up in his arms, leading him to wonder if he should have ventured onto such unstable ground. A slow breath left her lips with a bit of a hitch. He had struck the ultimate chord.

"Yes, I always wanted a child, and I do often wonder how life would be different if I had chosen to go that way." She did not want to hurt him but knew that honesty was always the best policy, especially when it came to dealing with her husband. "I cannot help myself to wonder sometimes, but I think that is normal, maybe even healthy. Forgive me?"

"Forgive you," he said with a laugh. "What for? There is nothing wrong or improper about wondering. Goodness knows I do it too."

Elsie tilted her head to look up at him with questioning eyes.

"I know full well how you feel about her, but watching Lady Mary grow and change has often had quite an effect on me. I never wanted children of my own before I started working at Downton, but tending to those three imps and watching them evolve over the years, hopefully a still continuing process, changed something in me. I cannot say that I mourn the thought of the responsibility, but I have enjoyed the process from a distance."

Elsie softened, nodding her head back onto his chest. Downton had become her home, Charles her husband, and those under her care her children. She was rarely free with such feelings, even with Charles. That was an ancient wall, full of cracks and beginning to slowly crumble, but as present as well-preserved ruins.

"You still didn't answer my question," he muttered into her hair.

"What question?" Elsie feigned ignorance.

He squeezed her sides, spiritedly teasing her into revealing her hidden information.

"Out with it… Anna."

Elsie propped herself up on one elbow, her cheek resting in her palm. She regarded Charles with eyebrows raised.

"I would have thought that you would know our children better than that." She couldn't resist. If she couldn't acknowledge Anna as a daughter openly, maybe Charles would allow her a bit of fantasy in their own private world.

He leaned over to playfully kiss her nose. "Well, she certainly does take after her mother. That I do know." He hoped that he wasn't going too far, but he couldn't help but feel that this was something Elsie needed, if only in their secret shared life.

Anna was, in fact, everything good about Elsie. She was fair, kind, loving, caring, loyal, most certainly cheeky and a champion for all that was right and good. The only thing he saw different in the two of them was Anna's ability to be so free with her feelings. He had uncovered it within Elsie, but not for lack of trying. He knew that she was guarded, but equated it to his own reasons for closing off to others. They were unfailing professionals, priding themselves in their work and positions. Unfortunately, that often meant placing that part of themselves above all else.

"Never underestimate that girl's intuition, Charles. Remember how determined she was to find the truth out about Mr. Bates. If she's got an idea in her head, she won't stop until she figures out every last bit of detail… including the marks we apparently sport on our ring fingers in the morning," she offered with a knowing eye.

"No!" He was floored. They had always been so careful, only wearing their wedding rings to sleep in an effort to feel close to each other, most often separated in their beds by a locked door. They had rearranged the furniture in their adjacent rooms in order that their beds should lie against the same wall, wood and plaster being all that barred them from holding each other through the lonely nights of secret marriage. It was far from ideal but yet significant.

"How long has she known?"

"Truthfully, I don't exactly know how long. She only chose to bravely share her suspicions with me upon her return from London," Elsie reminisced, a particularly ridiculous memory flooding over her. "Remember the morning we slept frightfully late into the morning in my sitting room? Three guesses who came to the rescue."

"But that was the morning she left for London," he said rubbing his forehead, just as he had done that morning. "I don't remember that."

Elsie had to laugh. "I'm afraid you were ignorant to most of the events of that particular morning. You were so soundly asleep, I'm surprised you didn't expose us to the rest of the staff by the resounding chorus of your snores."

"I do NOT snore," Charles huffed.

"You most certainly did that morning. In fact, we were so completely out that I didn't even register Anna bursting into my parlour, trying to hide herself from Ms. O'Brien."

"My Lord, how much did I miss?"

"Well, Anna apparently had to shake me awake, formulate a grand plan, and try to get me to comprehend it all in my groggy state in just a few, very anxious moments. We decided that it would do none of us any good letting you in on it as you were still blissfully unaware of the world."

"And you are just telling me this now?"

"This is exactly why! Why give you cause to lament, grouse and worry when there was no need. You still had your eyes closed when Mr. Bates gave the all clear."

"Mr. Bates? He was in on this whole scheme too?"

"This "whole scheme" you are speaking of is exactly what has kept the rest of the staff gratefully in the dark. We owe a lot to those two, you know."

"How did I miss all that?"

"My dear Mr. Carson, when you sleep, you SLEEP, which incidentally is what you should be doing right now." Elsie reluctantly started to rise.

"Won't you stay," he whined, pulling her back down against him. "Just for a little while longer?"

"Now Charles, you know that I can't. If Sarah O'Brien sees that key missing from its hook, with all that has happened tonight, we are as good as exposed." She cupped both of his cheeks, bringing her lips first upon his forehead then down upon his lips. "Plus, anymore of this might just spur a heart attack. Then there's the pesky issue of Dr. Clarkson hanging about outside the window." That was his Elsie, never at a loss for humour.

God he loved her.

Just then, a small sound came from the direction of the door. A little piece of paper slid itself under the crack and across the floorboards.

"I'm beginning to think that I'm not your only partner in crime, Elsie Carson."

Elsie stooped down to retrieve the carefully folded slip, unfolding it to read the familiar handwriting.

_Take care of Mr. Carson tonight. He deserves a bit of care, as you deserve to be able to provide. I'll call on you in the morning... BEFORE Daisy. –Anna_

Elsie shook her head and smiled. Sometimes you had to let the wall crumble, just a bit. "Perfect timing," she reflected silently, "but she forgot one thing."

Anna turned when she heard the sound coming from the door she had just quietly crept away from. A slight glint caught her eye as a small piece of paper slid out from underneath the crack.

_You'll need this… and THANK YOU. –Mrs. Hughes_

Anna retrieved the key, crossed the threshold and soundly locked the door between the male and female quarters.


	12. Chapter 12

**Going a bit AU on the canon timeline here… I wanted to take advantage of a happy time before another shoe dropped (Ethel's pregnancy reveal). **

**As always, they obviously aren't mine, but I do enjoy borrowing them! ;)**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 12

"Well that certainly was a welcomed change of pace," Elsie sighed as she sat next to Charles on the settee. In what had long ago become a nightly ritual, Charles slowly poured them each a glass of port; tonight it felt more like a celebration than simple routine. Not only had Mr. Bates returned to Downton and Anna, but William and Matthew, who had been missing in action, had returned unscathed.

"And the look on her face," Charles stated happily, overjoyed for Lady Mary, despite her unwillingness to admit that she was still in love with Matthew Crawley. He would always know Lady Mary better than what she would be willing to reveal. Elsie just shook her head and gave him the look he had come to know so well. "At least she'll always have you," she snorted with amusement as he shot back his shy, paternal smile.

They sat in her parlour, slowly sipping the wine, letting themselves unwind from the grand undertaking of the concert coupled with all of the excitement of the boys' return. Nights like these had been hard to come by since the start of the war. The stress of being understaffed and over concerned with keeping up appearances had surely taken its toll, not only on Charles's health but on Elsie's patience. Catching Ethel in the act with Major Bryant had done nothing to help that, now leaving them down yet another maid.

But none of that mattered tonight. No, tonight they would allow themselves to be happy.

"It's been a long time, you know," Elsie murmured, taking his hand into her own.

"Only a week or so," Charles leaned over to whisper in her ear, landing a small kiss just underneath.

"Not that," she laughed, elbowing him playfully in the side. "Cheeky!"

"Well, what then," he asked as he continued to gently kiss down her cheek and along her jaw.

"Since you've sang for me," she mumbled quietly, quite enjoying the tenderness of the moment, only made sweeter by reminiscing about the past.

Charles stopped cold. Had he really let so much time pass by without offering her one of the simplest gifts that he knew she adored? A wave of guilt started to wash over him as he began to contemplate the effects of war on both himself and their marriage.

He had lost his ability to play.

Elsie slowly opened her eyes to find Charles staring off into the distance. "Where did you go," she asked gently as she brought a hand up to stroke his back.

"To that day," he said quietly, turning to look into her eyes. No explanations were needed. She knew.

* * *

><p>About a month after they were married, Charles had arranged another day where the two of them could walk to the village without suspicion, both under the pretense of having errands of the utmost importance to run. He had managed to escape the house with a modest quilt and a small spot of tea packed in an unassuming crate which he had taken to a spot by the lake. A fallen tree made for a strong place to rest against whilst affording a sense of seclusion. He returned to Downton to collect Elsie for their walk into the village. They would never make it; it had never been his intention to.<p>

He brought her down to the lake where the quilt had been spread and the crate unpacked into quite a lovely scene. She gave a little gasp of surprise, clutching his arm a little tighter, and offering up one of her beaming smiles. Those were the hardest to come by; Charles instantly knew that his plan had succeeded.

After enjoying the tea, and quite a few biscuits, Charles moved himself against the tree, pulling Elsie into his arms. She settled herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest. The afternoon sun shone down upon them, its warmth paling in comparison to their own.

Elsie let her head loll to the side as Charles kissed his way down her cheek and just under her jawline. "Happy?" He only hoped that she shared a tenth of his joy in that moment.

"Undoubtedly," she murmured, turning her head to capture his lips with her own. "And you?"

"Never more so in my life," he mumbled, tightening his arms around her waist.

"Charles?"

"Yes dear?"

"Why don't you ever sing," she asked tentatively. She knew of his past on the stage, the past he thought of as shameful. It was secretly one of the things she loved most about him. She had seen small glimpses of his playful side, the one he kept so painfully hidden from everyone else. His past intrigued her; she wanted to see more, to know more, of her own "Cheerful Charlie."

Charles had found a respectable life in service. He was revered by those who worked under him. He felt like he had finally made himself into someone to look up to. He was reluctant to ever return to any part of his prior life, even if it secretly brought him a sense of joy. Life on the stage surely wasn't an easy one, but he would be lying to himself if he denied the rush of life performing brought to him. Still, this position, this respectable life had brought him here and given him a family. It had given him Elsie.

She turned her head to regard him, knowing that his stillness could only mean that she had struck a chord. What she did not know was if it was a happy or a sad one. She knew he was mortified when his past had been revealed, but she really did not understand why.

"It's just that music has always meant a lot to me," she started slowly. "I used to sing the day away as a girl." She thought back to her life on the farm, playing with her sister and getting through their chores with a song on their lips and strong in their hearts. It was one of her most cherished memories.

Charles often thought about what Elsie would have been like as a girl. He saw her, feisty and fiery, serious and dutiful, yet silly and adventurous, just as she was now even if it had to be hidden from everyone else. Thank heaven she had finally opened her beautiful soul to him.

Far be it from him to deny her one of her greatest pleasures.

She felt the sound within him before it made its way into her ears. She didn't know exactly what she had expected, but this surely was not it. Charles Carson, her wonderful husband, was singing what could only be described as a love song softly into her hair.

E'er love was mine,

My heart was like a garden,

Where bloomed no rose, no lilly pure divine.

Where scarce a happy bird

Down lonely ways was heard,

Dark was my heart and sad,

E'er love was mine.

Now love is mine,

A thousand fadeless flowers

Bloom in my garden,

Down each pathway shine.

Summer unheeded flies,

'Neath blue or clouded skies,

God keep my garden fair,

Now love is mine!

God keep my garden fair,

Now love is mine!

She couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. He had put aside his pride to indulge her in such a complete act of tenderness. Her heart swelled as she nestled into him as tightly as she could.

"That bad" he laughed when he tilted her chin up to look into her glistening eyes.

"Charles, no one has ever…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

He took her face into his hands, kissing her on the forehead, the nose and finally soundly upon her lips. He brought his forehead to rest upon hers. "Forgive me for saying so, but I'm awfully glad."

They had waited over half of their lives; love had finally found them.

* * *

><p>"That was a beautiful day, in more ways than one," she said wistfully, still running a hand along his back.<p>

"Elsie. I'm sorry."

"For what? For doing your job? For keeping up standards? For taking care of everyone and everything within the walls of Downton?"

Charles hung his head. He hadn't taken care of everyone. "Everyone but you…"

Elsie sighed. Yes, things had been tense for quite some time. Charles wasn't as playful as he had once been, but then again, neither was she. There was always something else or someone else that needed attending to; the blame lied with both of them.

"Now Charles Carson, I never want to hear anything of the sort again. We are both well aware that there is a war on. Surely things cannot be as they once were." Her tone became increasingly defeated.

This wouldn't do.

Charles turned to her, grasping her about the shoulders and drawing her into his lap. She gave a little gasp of surprise and looked to his face for any sign of explanation. What she was given was far better than a simple look.

Roses are shining in Picardy,

In the hush of the silver dew,

Roses are flow'ring in Picardy,

But there's never a rose like you!

And the roses will die with the summertime,

And our roads may be far apart,

But there's one rose that dies not in Picardy,

'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart

He sang softly, hands wrapped tenderly yet snugly around hers. Only this time he didn't sing into her hair.

He did not allow his eyes to leave hers for a single moment.

**A/N: Songs – Love is Mine (1912) / Roses of Picardy (1916)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you everyone for your continued support and encouragement. Times are hectic as of late; when the plot bunnies surface, I need to jump. BEWARE - some serious chapters ahead. After all... There is a war on, you know!**

Chapter 13

"Why in heaven's name didn't you find me," Elsie roared at Charles, leaving no question as to her feelings about the situation.

"Let me see. Perhaps due to just this sort of reaction?" He tried to take her hand but she pulled away as if she had been burnt, furiously pacing the floor of the store cupboard. The past 24 hours had unleashed a cacophony of emotion throughout Downton, Elsie not spared in the least. A midnight telegram brought news of Matthew's injury but no news of William, causing a very sleepless night. The morning delivery of William's fate served to start the tearing of her heart, full well knowing the worst was yet to come.

And now this.

"How dare she! With all that is going on, all that we are faced with losing... I cannot even begin to process the level of hatred that has diseased that... that..." Elsie's hands were flying. Charles knew that the pieces were falling, that the events of the day were taking their toll; if they came out in an explosion of anger, he would take it. He would gladly endure anything but her stoic silence.

"I put them, all, in your sitting room. I was not about to worry you with this on top of everything else that has come around today. There, I could listen and decide what further action would be best."

"But you don't know Charles," she thundered. Here they were, wrestling with the fact that their William would soon be joining his mother and the rest of the awaiting angels, only to be visited by the vile Vera Bates. That woman was the worst type of parasite, leeching on and refusing to let go.

Elsie was beyond furious. Anna had been through too much in her young life, most of it due to this frightful beast of a creature. Her thoughts turned to Mr. Bates, becoming clouded and dark, wondering if it would have been better if he had never darkened the doorstep of Downton. How could he bring all of this upon Anna?

Periods of bleak sadness, hurt and mourning drew out the fierce mother, bound and determined to protect her loves.

Charles reached for her again, not giving her a choice in the matter this time. He drew her in, hugging her tight to his body. She immediately tensed, trying to bring fists up to his chest, but he had managed to pin her arms in his hold. "I hate her! I hate this! I just don't understand!" Everything was coming out. Well, almost everything.

"Shhh," Charles soothed as he ran his hands over her back. "I think one dead body per decade is enough for this house." He had meant to reference the thought of her bringing physical harm to Vera Bates, of course, but had foolishly forgotten about the other events of the day. The words had left his mouth before he could realize just what he had said.

Elsie writhed against him violently, releasing her arms from his hold, using them to shove him off of her and back toward the door. His mind reeled and began to process the implications of his words. Dear Lord.

She made a valiant effort to push past him, making an escape for the door, but he managed to catch her about the waist. He would not let her go that easily. If she left that room without some sort of resolution, things would never be the same between them again.

"You know I didn't mean..."

"Charles, just let me go. There are things to do, preparations to be made." Elsie was cold, her tone as blank as her face.

"I most certainly will not," he rumbled in her ear, his own tone beginning to betray a slight edge. "Sometimes I wonder if you consider that I have any feelings at all."

She spun around to face him, the fire alight in her eyes. She was taken aback by the pain she saw written plainly across his features. His jaw was tense, still displaying a stiff upper lip, but his eyes were full of wet sorrow.

"We've lost him, haven't we," she managed through a hitched breath.

He held her close, allowing her to shed tears for their surrogate son. She had always thought the world of him. Shy and sensitive, loving and innocent, he had brought music back to Downton, back to Elsie, before Charles had ever dared to. Now, he was lying upstairs waiting to die.

Life could be so unfair.

They slowly began to put themselves back together, returning to the business of the day in an effort to distract themselves from the events that had cruelly reigned down upon their heads.

Besides, if Elsie couldn't do anything for one child, she certainly would do her best for another.

She had kept Ethel's predicament in the dark from everyone, including Charles. She knew what his reaction would be, most likely similar to her own initial one. She had never been particularly fond of the girl, but she could not stand by when an innocent babe was fated into a right mess. If she were not to be blessed with children, she would do everything possible to care for those who were placed in her path, regardless of circumstance.

She had been feeding Ethel and baby Charlie out of the house for months. She listened to her talk on and on about Major Bryant, fully knowing that the man would be nothing more than an absent father, denying the child he had created out of lust and greed. She hated him for it, now knowing that men did exist who would have given anything to be a father, namely her Charles. She agreed to try and help Ethel contact him, regardless of how futile she knew the efforts to be.

There was also the business of hiring a new maid. Jane Moorsum had come to Downton also wishing to support a child, but under quite different circumstances. Her husband had died fighting for King and Country on the Somme. It was a very unorthodox situation but the woman had sound references and seemed quite agreeable from the start. Elsie passed her recommendation onto Charles, who met with his Lordship on the matter, both agreeing to the arrangement.

The night was heavy with emotion. Barely anyone said two words around the dining table in the servants' hall. Even Thomas had fallen quiet, everyone knowing what they would be confronted with come morning.

Neither Charles, nor Elsie could bear the thought of facing the night alone, but after dinner, both had retired to their respective rooms of business, neither ready to face the other. Their little family was crumbling. They were powerless to fix it.

A short while later, a soft knock fell upon Elsie's parlour door. "Come in," she called out, wondering who would come looking for her. The door opened the slightest bit, and the little blonde head she so adored appeared. "Mrs. Hughes, can I speak with you a moment."

Elsie ushered Anna in with a wave of her hand as she rose up to meet her. As Anna shut the door behind her, Elsie crossed over to the settee, patting the space next to her in an invitation for Anna to sit. She hated the events that Anna had to face earlier in this room, hoping that a simple act of comfort now might push them away, if only for a moment.

"I believe you heard what happened in here today," she said softly, looking down at the floor.

"Yes, Mr. Carson told me that that... that... well I won't call her what I wish to call her, for my own soul's sake, but yes, I heard that we were graced by the former Mrs. Bates's presence this afternoon."

"But that's just it Mrs. Hughes. She's not the former." Anna sounded so small, so lost. "I know that it is awfully selfish of me to even think about Mr. Bates and I when William..." She couldn't finish the sentence. The girl was feeling guilty for loving. Elsie's heart was begging to break.

"Now you look at me, Anna Smith," she said steadily, bringing a hand to Anna's chin and turning it towards her gently. "If there is one thing that I am quite sure of, it is this. John Bates loves you with his whole heart. It is that which makes Vera the former Mrs. Bates. There is no room for the past, nor should there be in the case of that viper." She brought her hand down to rest upon Anna's. "I'm sorry for being so forward, I just don't believe I'll ever understand what he ever saw in that woman."

Anna laughed. "That certainly makes two of us. Well three, I suppose, if you count Mr. Carson."

Elsie donned a look of surprise. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

"You don't know" Anna asked, taken aback that Elsie would not have heard exactly how they were rid of Mrs. Bates that day.

"No, I don't believe I do. Care to clue me in?"

Anna brightened considerably. "Well, she had started in on her regular tirade about bringing scandal down upon the House of Grantham; all of a sudden it was like an anvil had hit the wall. Such a noise! Mr. Bates told Vera that he knew that she was only doing this because she knew that he was happy... that I made him happy."

"All of which is very true..." Elsie said lovingly.

"She got up to leave, giving us one last parting shot."

"And what, pray tell, was that?"

"Maybe, but you won't be happy long," Anna said, mimicking Vera's spiteful tone.

Elsie's blood boiled. "I wouldn't have expected anything but grace from you Anna, but I would likely have throttled the woman."

Anna indulged in a slight giggle. It felt so nice when surrounded with such dark times. "Mr. Carson said as much..."

"But you haven't finished. What happened when she crossed to leave?"

"That's just it. The door swung open with Mr. Carson fully darkening the frame. He said, 'I believe that will be the last we see of you, then' as he took her by the elbow and led her off to the back door. I turned to Mr. Bates who looked as shocked as I felt. We couldn't hear what else was said as we were glued to the spot, I'm afraid. I walked out with John but asked Mr. Carson if I could have a word in his pantry."

"And?" Elsie was enraptured. Charles had let his professionalism crack to defend Anna's honour. Her heart was full with gratitude.

"I rightly kissed him on the cheek! I know how much it means to Mr. Carson to always keep up the best of appearances. For him to do that for me... for us... it meant so much."

Elsie softened. A right father he was, her Charles. She had never been more proud. To think that she had been so awful to him before, claiming that he didn't understand. Perhaps he understood better than she did.

"He was surprised at first but then smiled. He might have even blushed a bit," Anna said through a smile. "He said, 'Well I wasn't about to let that... that...' You know Mrs. Hughes, it's funny how neither of you can figure out a proper word for her." Elsie laughed. Anna continued, "I told him that Lady Mary would surely be appreciative of his defense of her honour, and do you know what he said to me, Mrs. Hughes?"

"I can't even venture a guess, my dear."

"Mr. Carson said, 'It's not always about Lady Mary, dear girl' as he patted me on the shoulder and sent me on my way. It was lovely and much appreciated, I can tell you that."

Elsie was flooded with emotion. Not only had he stood up for Anna, but he revealed the fact to her. What a step for the man. Not even she would have expected that or been able to do it herself. For that she felt a bit sorrowful.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Hughes," Anna asked, always full of concern for everyone else.

"Oh, I'm fine, Anna. I just owe someone a very large apology."

"I was thinking that maybe, with all that has happened today, that you might want some time to yourselves this evening." Even if Mrs. Hughes failed to admit her feelings for the whole lot of them, Anna knew that they all meant a lot to her. To have William in the house, biding time until he was to be taken home by the angels, had to have been taking its toll on her.

"With all that you've been through today Anna, I could not ask that of you."

"In all fairness, Mrs. Hughes, with all that Mr. Carson did for me today, I believe it's quite due." Anna rose from the settee and started for the door. "Oh and you might want to take a look at his hand. I tried to fix it up as best I could earlier, but it was just beginning to colour. I believe he might need some aspirin and tenderness."

Elsie was confused. What had happened to Charles's hand, and more importantly, why hadn't she noticed? "Whatever happened to his hand?"

Anna smirked. "That great noise in the hall? Mr. Carson punched through the frame of the back door."


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye to one of our own…**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 14

Charles had successfully managed to hide his darkening fist from Elsie all day. Why give her one more thing to fuss and fret over? Upstairs, William was lying in a proper room, waiting to meet his maker, downstairs Anna was smarting from that wretched woman's visit, and his wife would undoubtedly pay for it all if only in the silence of her own heart. He couldn't bear to burden her with one more thing.

He carefully removed the injured hand from his pocket, resting it upon his desk, ever so slowly unwinding the wrapping that Anna had administered before dinner. It had begun to colour late in the day, and Anna, of course, had been the only one mindful enough to notice. He could not believe that he succeeded in concealing it in such an easy manner throughout the evening though he wondered if it was even necessary. There were more important things for everyone to worry about now.

Like the fact that their beloved boy was dying.

There was a sudden knock on the door; as quickly as it had sounded, Charles found himself with a face full of Elsie. He drew his hand quickly back into his lap, grimacing at the pain as his knuckles struck the lip of the desktop.

"And when were you going to tell me about that" she asked whilst moving around to the back of his chair. She gently picked up his hand, shocked at the swelling around his knuckles which were turning a fine shade of aubergine. "Oh Charles," she said as she ran her other hand lightly over top. There was surely a chance it could be broken, this she knew but decided against worrying him with further. She would consult with Dr. Clarkson tomorrow when he came to see to William.

"I was just so angry Elsie! Our boy's lying upstairs, as good as gone, and that… that… thing shows up here to turn our girl's life upside down. How much more does she have to endure, do we have to endure?" He started strong, his voice losing its edge as he began to talk of Anna and the regret that they both felt that this sweet creature that had been bestowed upon them so long ago had to suffer for such a simple thing as love.

"The course of true love never did run smooth dear," Elsie spoke softly, bestowing the lightest of kisses over each of his battered knuckles. "I never knew that you truly thought of them all as ours. I had guessed that you had felt the same as I, but I never dared ask it of you. We really are quite a family, aren't we?"

"I'm just sorry that we could not have had the proper one you deserve."

"Perhaps it is better this way. I've heard that childbirth does horrible things to a woman's body," she let out just the slightest bit of humour, testing the waters, knowing that he not only deserved it but felt it just might ease things, if only a bit.

He used his good hand to grasp her about the waist and pull her down upon his lap.

"I am very proud of what you did for her," Elsie said as she kissed his forehead. "She deserves every bit of love that she can get, and if it has to be from us, so be it. At least you had the courage to show her."

He turned to face her, his loving wife who he knew cared for Anna more than anyone else, excluding himself. "She knows that you love her. I do think we have stolen that bit of joy from ourselves in a way, keeping our fronts so upstanding in the name of efficiency and professionalism. Sometimes I wish more than anything that you would just allow yourself to embrace her, for both of your sakes."

Elsie knew that the minute she let herself provide open physical comfort to any of their charges, Anna especially, the walls she had built around her heart would come tumbling down. She couldn't afford the pain it would ultimately cause as she watched each one of them leave with no promise of further contact. Her thoughts returned to the loving, once homesick boy lying upstairs going home to meet his real mother at any moment's notice.

"They're not ours, Charles."

"They're all we've got."

She nestled her head against his neck, letting the tears come.

"Actually dear, I take that back. We've got this," he said as he kissed the trails the tears had left down her dampened cheeks. "We've got each other, and for that, I count myself the luckiest man that has ever walked this earth."

Not many people were fortunate enough to see past the stiff, pretentious butler persona of Charles Carson. Elsie Hughes had not only managed to break past all the barriers but had managed to let him past her strict matriarchal exterior as well.

Most of the staff had retired early, knowing what tomorrow would bring. Charles held Elsie in his pantry until all other sounds ceased from the hall.

"Anna suggested we should spend some time together tonight." She expected him to blanche at the information, knowing that he disapproved of anyone knowing their personal business, even if it was just Anna.

Charles laughed. "Oh did she now; and what did the girl have in mind?"

"Well I certainly don't discuss THAT with her" she scoffed. She couldn't help her thoughts reaching ahead to what was to come. "Tomorrow is going to be awful dear… that is, if he lasts that long…"

Charles began to stir, shifting her off of his lap to stand and take her properly in his arms. "Don't you think about that, now. We will make the best out of what we can. He will be happy. We'll ensure it."

She looked up at him, grateful that he cared for their reluctant children as much as she did.

"Shall we," she asked, tugging at his sleeve, minding to keep away from his injury.

"Your room or mine," he asked playfully.

"Charles," she started, an unsettling seriousness creeping into her quiet tone. "Would you mind, just this once, just holding me?"

In all honesty, he didn't know if he could have made love to her under the circumstances. The situation of imminent loss was overwhelming. He was comforted in her request and found it immensely endearing. Every time he thought he couldn't love her any more than he possibly did, she always surprised him with something new.

"There is nothing I could want more tonight," he said softly, using his good hand to lift her chin and softly kiss her in a way that he hoped would convey the same.

* * *

><p>The next day saw Anna serving as Daisy's ladies' maid, lovingly preparing her for a wedding Daisy had never envisioned or wanted. Elsie descended the stairs with a painted on smile, determined to bring her dear William whatever happiness she could afford in his final moments on this Earth. She watched as Charles took Daisy's arm, dutifully standing in for the absent father who would have given her away. The sight caught her breath and stirred the tears she was forcefully pushing away. She knew full well that this might be the only opportunity he would ever have to give away a daughter. It was tragic in its beauty.<p>

They all stood around William's bed, watching him pledge his undying love for Daisy. No one ever second guessed his sincerity. It was abundantly clear that William had fallen in love with that girl from the day that he arrived on their doorstep. His adoration was sweet but always tainted with a sense of sadness as it was clear that although Daisy cared for him as a friend, she would never return his true feelings. Elsie never blamed her, as one cannot blame someone, even a foolish girl, for not having feelings for another; she did feel sorry for William as a mother would for any heartsick lad.

Elsie kept her smile throughout the ceremony, her eyes as wet as anyone else's in the room. She thought back to the day Joe Burns had returned to ask her again for her hand. She had caught William playing piano and was touched at his kind sentiments. True, she had made her decision to stay primarily because she knew she would never be able to love Joe as she had loved Charles, even if he were never to return her feelings, but it was William who had reawakened the long buried maternal instinct in her. Thoughts of family, love and hope were brought back to her through this thoughtful boy who now lay before her, pledging himself to his boyhood love before relenting to be reunited with his real mother.

Elsie made the mistake of glancing over at Charles. She had never once seen him cry out of anything other than joy before; there he stood, tears rimming his eyes. She didn't know how many times it was possible for a heart to break in one day, but the little moments continued to come. Even the old bat had managed to get misty in the moment, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and claiming she was coming down with a cold.

Why was it then that she couldn't bring herself to cry? Because she was Elsie Hughes, that's why. She couldn't let her countenance crack. If she did, she might never be able to piece it back together again.

Daisy refused to leave William's side after the wedding. That was a comfort to Elsie. She knew it would make him happy. As much as she wanted to visit with the dear boy one last time, she didn't believe that her heart could take it. He died, surrounded by his wife, his father and Mrs. Patmore, who Elsie knew possibly cared more for that boy then even she and Charles did.

Dinner was more silent than the last, everyone eating and then going their separate ways, either retiring early or finding somewhere else, anywhere else to go to occupy their thoughts with something other than William. The war had claimed one of their own. It reverberated throughout the house.

Mrs. Patmore took it upon herself to tend to Daisy, for which Elsie was eternally grateful. She didn't really know what to say to the girl. Nothing seemed appropriate.

A short while later, Charles mindfully opened the door of the store cupboard to find Elsie huddled in the corner, sitting on her little stepstool, back against the wall with her knees hugged tightly to her chest. He knew that she would be here, the only place where no one but he would be able to find her. He closed and locked the door, crossing over to her when she refused to look up at the sound.

He scooped her up, bad hand and all, moving her to rest against him. They sat right there on the floor, holding onto each other for dear life, finally able to release all of the loss. Gwen had left them for a bigger life, but William had left them entirely. He had gone home, forever, leaving them with only the ghost of his ready smile.

This was exactly why Elsie unfailingly fought to refuse attachment.

Eventually, they would all leave her behind.


	15. Chapter 15

**This is my first attempt at a bit of M. I only hope that it comes off as tender and tasteful… after all, they just did lose their "son."**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 15

When Charles opened his eyes, he saw only darkness. Anxiety stirred in his chest until he realized that something else was stirring upon him. Elsie.

They had fallen asleep in each other's arms on the store cupboard floor.

His eyes began to adjust, finding that a sliver of moonlight had made its way in through the still dingy window. He lifted his head slightly to look down upon her, the hints of auburn in her hair shining in the dim glow. Elsie snuggled into him, still asleep but obviously restless. He lied his head back down upon hers, wrapping her in security but knowing that he needed to get her into her own comfortable bed. They shouldn't be spending such a horrid night on the dirty floor of the store cupboard. She deserved better than that.

Thankfully he hadn't broken his hand in his burst of anger the day before. Dr. Clarkson confirmed it when he had come to declare William. He didn't want to think of it. He would rather endure the physical pain and inconvenience of a broken hand than figure out how to rebuild their broken hearts.

With his hand in the state it was, coupled with minding his anxiety, he would regrettably have to wake her. Now more than ever, he wished he could carry her up the stairs, over the threshold of her room and tuck her securely into bed, sidling in beside her. He might not be able to carry that out, but he wouldn't be leaving her side this night, of that he was certain.

"Elsie, love," he whispered into her hair, softly rocking her awake. He tilted her back against his arm so that he could watch her face as she began to waken. Her brow was furrowed as if she were wrapped up in a nightmare. Leaving his good hand free, he used it to tenderly stroke her face, leaving kisses over the trails his fingertips invisibly ghosted behind.

Her eyes gradually blinked open, obviously into the same darkness Charles had experienced just moments before. "Where are we," she mumbled, lost in the fog of wakening. "Still in the store cupboard dear," he offered leaning down to capture her lips in a brief kiss. "We fell asleep."

"Sounds like us," she murmured, continuing to let her senses slowly piece together in the dark.

He let a small laugh escape against her cheek. It felt good to laugh. "We really should be off to bed."

"Together," she asked quietly. The last thing she wanted to be was alone tonight.

"Together," he agreed, kissing her forehead and steadying her up alongside himself.

As it was deep into the night, no one was left awake to wander the halls. They ascended the stairs, Elsie turning her head to peer down the hall of the female servants' quarters first. She led Charles down to her bedroom door, her fingers intertwined with those on his uninjured hand. She turned the key to lock the main door between the male and female halls, returning it to its hook and herself to Charles's embrace. They entered her room silently, crossing over to their respective sides of the bed.

Charles began to slowly remove his collar and waistcoat, mindful of his throbbing knuckles, when his hands were suddenly stilled by Elsie's tender touch. He looked down into her red rimmed eyes, all cried out yet still full of overwhelming emotion. His heart felt as if it would burst as she barely managed to choke out one word.

"Please?"

He lifted his good hand to begin extracting the pins from her hair as she worked each of the buttons on his shirt free. He gently ran his hand down the side of her cheek with the removal of each pin. She lighted small kisses down the length of his chest as the release of each button further opened the fabric of his once carefully pressed, but now fiercely wrinkled, shirt.

No words were needed. In a day marked with such grand loss, all they wanted, all they needed, was to be lost in each other.

Elsie brought the shirt down over his shoulders, allowing him to slide his fine arm from the first sleeve but taking care to gently extract his swollen hand from the second. As he reached out to begin working the fastenings of her dress, Elsie heard a sharp intake of breath. His hand. Bless him, he had forgotten about his pain to afford her this simple act of intimacy. She pulled his wrists away from her body, running her lips lightly over the swollen flesh, evidence of his love for their family, however complicated it all proved to be.

She extracted herself first from her dress, casting it to the floor. For now, it represented nothing but loss. She didn't want to think of putting it on again anytime soon.

Charles watched her reverently as she freed herself from the stiff constraints of her corset. She stood before him, hair loose and flowing about her shoulders, clad only in a thin shift and knickers. Her eyes, lit by the candlelight, studied him fervently as if she might never see him again.

He glided over to her in one long stride, enfolding her in an unrelenting embrace, one arm snugly wrapped about her waist, the other tangled in her hair. He brought his lips down upon hers in a passionate mixture of need and longing, his tongue running along her lips, urgently requesting further access. She pushed back to deepen the expression, savoring the slow burn that had begun to rise from deep within.

Elsie unfastened his belt and nimbly began working on the fastenings of his trousers. She continued to undress him until he was left in only his undershorts. She was overwhelmed with the need to consume and be consumed by her husband. Loss had taken everything from her; she needed to drown herself in him to bring it all back.

Charles moved his lips from hers, capturing the sweet spot just under her jaw that always promised an audible reward. He continued down her neck, alternating between gently pulling and soothing the soft flesh. He may not have been able to carry her up the stairs as he had so greatly desired, but he would ignore the pain in his hand long enough to scoop her up into his arms and carry her to their bed.

She tried to protest, but he would not hear any of it. Touched by his tenderness, Elsie began to lavish Charles's neck with slow nips and kisses. She reached the spot behind his ear that unfailingly made his chest rumble in the sweetest way. By the time he lowered her onto the bed, they both found their bodies humming.

Charles reached down for the hem of Elsie's shift, slowly drawing it up, his hand trailing softly over her thighs, across her stomach and between her breasts, finally relieving it from her body. He brought his head down to her chest, first resting it gently, listening to her heart beating. She was still here, still with him, still alive.

Elsie raked her fingers through his hair as he began his soft ministrations. He drew one nipple to rest between his lips, gliding his tongue softly over and around it whilst trailing the backs of his fingertips dotingly across the other. She softly moaned in pleasure, urging Charles to continue. Knowing that he was fully distracted, Elsie took the opportunity to reach over to the bedside table, retrieving her most cherished possession.

She slipped her wedding ring onto her finger as he continued to lovingly cover her with soft touch and adoration. He had felt the absence of her hands entwined in his hair as well as the stretch of her body against him. He continued to glide his hands over her with the barest of touches as he caught the glint of the golden band now resting upon her finger.

He rose up along her length, trailing kisses up her left arm, stopping only to nip and suck at that precious finger, the one that proclaimed that she was his.

Forever and always.

He entered her in a long, slow stroke, craving the familiar feel of his wife's body against his own. She brought her hands to slide affectionately across his back. Tonight they would make love slowly and deliberately, savoring the simplicity of still breathing.

They were here. They were together. Nothing else mattered.

They found their release together, arching into each other, giving in to every feeling of the moment all the while never letting their eyes leave one another's. As they lay, praying for sleep to deliver them from the day, Charles drew Elsie into his arms. "I love you Elsie Carson," he exhaled against her forehead. She slowly lifted it to rest against his. "And I love you, Charles Carson… forever and always."

Sleep claimed them in a moment, foreheads still pressed together, encircled in each other's arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**This is a short one, but I thought we needed a bit of fun after the last few tearjerkers... **

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 16

As everyone gathered around the table in the servants' hall for their usual morning breakfast, it became all too apparent that their little world had indeed changed. They had all come to know the price of war, from family letters and the newspapers, but death had yet to touch them in their own household. Until now.

Elsie had given Daisy the day off, hoping that the girl would finally lay her head down on a pillow and get some rest. She counted her own blessings that Charles had stayed with her through the night, the two of them clinging to each other and their life together as if they might not ever see it again. Though the nature of their secret marriage was far from ideal, they did have ready access to each other every single day. Sometimes it was far too easy to take it all for granted.

Anna made her way to breakfast a bit behind everyone else as she had gone to check on Daisy, who had gratefully descended into dreamland. She had found herself a cup of tea in the kitchen before making her way to the table to join the others. She passed by Mr. Carson, then Mrs. Hughes when something caught her eye.

Something bright that had just captured the morning rays shining in through the window...

She dropped her teacup onto the stone floor, causing it to shatter in all directions. The sudden noise caught everyone by surprise but also gave her the opportunity to firmly grab Elsie's hand, throwing it into her lap. "Heaven's girl! What has gotten into you this morning," Elsie shouted before realizing just what Anna had done.

Elsie Carson had forgotten to take off her wedding ring.

Charles's eyes shot open, his mouth left unconsciously agape as he saw the band shining brightly on Elsie's hand, now thankfully hidden under the table. He shot his own arm out, aiming to retrieve the ring to pocket it, forgetting about the current state of his hand. He found his intended target easily, but wrapping his fingers around it so finely with his knuckles still swollen and throbbing caused him to suddenly recoil, releasing his grip. This wouldn't have proved a problem if Elsie hadn't chose that exact moment to snatch her hand away in shock.

The ring dropped to the floor, rolling its way out into the corridor.

Anna moved quickly, covering the space between the table and the entryway as best she could manage. She called out to Mrs. Patmore, requesting a cloth.

"It's been an age since breakfast has seen this much action," scoffed O'Brien, smirking into her tea. Thomas grunted out an indifferent response, more concerned with his porridge than any kind of "action" this boring lot could provide.

Anna shot both Elsie and Charles a concerned look, all three processing that miraculously no one saw the visual symbol of their shared secret but knowing that one of them would have to find a way to go and retrieve it before it was found by anyone else. "Too much excitement for me this morning, I believe," Mr. Bates offered as he rose from his chair and made an unassuming exit.

He rounded the corner, casting his eyes to the floor. He looked all around the entryway to the servants' hall but did not see anything out of the ordinary. "Where the devil could it have gone," he thought to himself as he caught a glimpse of blonde turn the corner after him.

Only it wasn't the flaxen haired beauty he had expected.

This delightful creature had four legs and a tail.

Isis...


	17. Chapter 17

**Another short one. Where the devil did that ring go? **

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 17

Five days had come and gone with no sign of the ring. Charles struggled to come up with a plausible explanation as to why he had taken such a strong interest in the blasted dog, taking it upon himself to take her out for walks quite regularly throughout the day and joining his Lordship on his own afternoon walks, actively noting any place relief was to take place.

Yes, it had come to this. Mapping out dog piles along the grounds. How completely undignified.

Elsie had done her best to ply the dog with extra bread and any leftover grease she could sneak from the kitchen. There were some things about animals that never left the old farm girl. Still, she would gladly let Charles do the dirty work, so to speak.

On the sixth day, Daisy had been mopping up some errant footprints in the hallway and accidentally left behind a sizable puddle just by the door to the servants' hall. Sarah O'Brien rounded the corner, a little more hastened than usual in a frantic search for her button box. Suddenly she found herself face down on the cold, wet stone floor.

"Foolish girl," she bellowed once the wind returned to her lungs. As she started to push herself up to a seated position, a glint abruptly caught her eye. There, stuck deeply in the gap between the door jam and its adjacent tile was a gold ring.

"Stupid thing," she thought to herself as she extracted the band from its trapped space. Did Daisy think that poorly of William to have divested herself of the symbol of their marriage so easily? She had always thought that William was much too good of a lad for that silly girl, but far be it from her to discourage happiness in his last moments on this Earth. She'd never acknowledge it publicly, but she quite liked the fellow, niceness and all.

She stood up slowly, muscles smarting a bit from the unexpectedly hard landing. She looked up to the sky and shook her head slowly, recognizing the fates for paying her back for that stunt she pulled when Bates first came to Downton. She roughly smoothed her hands over her dress and headed off towards the kitchen.

"Drop something," she barked at Daisy, holding out her open hand containing the gold band. Daisy looked first at O'Brien's wet dress, knowing that she was in for it but then saw what she was offering up in her outstretched palm. "That's not mine," she said shaking her head vigorously, holding up her own left hand which still donned the token of William's love and devotion.

"Well if it's not yours, whose is it?"


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Thank you for your patience! We left our heroes plying Isis with delicious, fatty food in a grand attempt to carefully retrieve a very precious piece of jewelry… only to have it discovered by Ms. O'Brien! How will they manage to explain this one?**

**As always, they aren't mine, but I sure like to borrow them!**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 18

"I bet you a tanner it's Anna's," Thomas muttered across the table.

"Has the war warped your brain? What vicar would see it fit to marry those two when he's clearly already taken up that vow," she shot back adding "no matter how certifiable that cow of a former of his is" just under her breath.

"Perhaps it's Jane's," ventured Daisy. "She may have taken it off for fear of dirtying it."

"Taken what off," asked Jane as she rounded the corner into the servants' dining hall.

Sarah O'Brien was slowly becoming aggravated. There was nothing she hated more than sharing secrets that could prove to be beneficial before she figured out how to make them so, that is with anyone other than Thomas or her Ladyship of course.

Thomas waved a hand, indicating the gold band now resting openly in the middle of the dining table.

"Well it's certainly not mine," Jane spoke as she offered up her own left hand, wedding ring still residing on her finger. Honestly she had been starting to wonder if it were approaching the time to stop wearing it. Her husband had been gone for nearly two years now and her heart was beginning to yearn for someone else. Fighting a constant battle between her head and her heart, she chose to keep donning the piece of jewelry, if only for her son's sake.

"Well this is turning out to be a right mystery," Daisy said with a smile, one of her first since William had passed. "Maybe we should get Anna in on this. She's a cracking solver!"

Sarah O'Brien groaned. It was bad enough that foolish Daisy had become privy to the information, which basically meant that it was only a matter of time before the whole of the downstairs knew about it.

She had to admit, Anna was eerily good at figuring things out, but she had always managed to outsmart her, especially when it came to dealing with Vera Bates. No one but Thomas had a clue that it was she who stirred up the treacherous whirlwind that would come, not only threatening to ruin Mr. Bates, but to bring scandal down upon the house of Grantham. For that she was eternally grateful, especially when remembering that Anna did manage to figure out that whole snuffbox fiasco.

Maybe Anna was smarter than she gave her credit for.

"I'll tell you whose it isn't," muttered Thomas.

O'Brien looked over at him, sharing a knowing look as they both answered in unison.

"The old battleax"

"Mrs. Patmore?" Daisy was wide-eyed and innocent as she had been during her first year.

"No, you noodle," answered O'Brien curtly.

"The ice queen," cut Thomas, smug as ever.

Now, Charles Carson had been mere steps behind Jane as she had made her way to the dining hall for luncheon. The speculative nature of the conversation going on inside caused him to halt and tune in an ever keen ear on the proceedings. He had heard everything from the minute Jane had entered the room, but was still unclear as to what object was being referenced.

The words "ice queen" startled him to immediate attention. There was only one person Thomas and Ms. O'Brien would ever reference in that manner and most definitely without him around.

They were talking about his wife.

For a split second, Charles felt a sense of amusement in thinking, "If only they knew…," but that amusement was quickly replaced by an overwhelming feeling of blinding rage. How dare they talk about their superior in that manner.

How dare they talk about his Elsie.

He needed to get to the bottom of this and fast. He stepped into the doorway, completely darkening it with his ominous presence, causing Daisy to immediately shrink back. Thomas could tell by her expression what was coming before he heard the words.

"And who exactly would you be referencing Thomas," Charles barked authoritatively.

"Could be any number of women in this house," he muttered back.

"The gall of that boy," Charles thought to himself as he felt his face redden in anger. There was nothing he could do about it though as Thomas was no longer under his jurisdiction. If he was being tested, whoever was in charge up there was doing a great job of it.

He managed to temper his anger long enough to make his way over to his chair. What he saw on the table immediately froze him to the spot. There was Elsie's wedding ring, the ring he had spent the greater part of a week mapping out dog releases trying to retrieve. He did his best to keep the shock out of his face but apparently was not all that successful.

"Anything wrong Mr. Carson," Daisy asked shyly, still cowering a bit under Charles's tense stare.

"No Daisy," he responded as he brought a hand up to rub his forehead. "Go and tell Mrs. Patmore that we are ready for luncheon."

"But not everyone is here," Daisy replied quietly.

"Just go, Daisy. Just go," Charles growled between clenched teeth.

O'Brien and Thomas looked to each other, trying desperately to assess the situation and figure out this new atmosphere.

Daisy bustled out the door, nearly knocking over Anna. "Why the long faces," Anna asked as she observed Mr. Carson furiously rubbing his forehead, Jane's apparent fascination in her own shoes, and O'Brien and Thomas with the familiar shared look which tended to mark the origination of a scheme. The gleaming surface in the middle of the table caught her attention; she nearly started choking.

Thomas raised his eyebrows at O'Brien.

"You're still not right. Not on this one," she mumbled under her breath.

The hall boys and under maids had all begun to take their seats at the table, no one mentioning the intriguing piece of jewelry that shone like a beacon, square in the middle of the dining table. Anna was getting whiter by the second and Charles looked as if he would rub a hole through his skull. Elsie Hughes observed the odd behavior as she made her way down the hall, her steps becoming slower and slower as she recognized the obvious atmosphere that was awaiting her arrival.

"And what, pray tell, is the matter in here," she asked, making her way over to her usual chair, noting almost everyone's odd behavior. "Anna, you look as if you've seen a gho…" She couldn't finish the sentence as she saw her ring staring back at her from the middle of the dining table.

Oh they certainly were being tested. Of this she now had no doubt.

If there was one thing Elsie Hughes was good at, it was thinking on her feet. Decisive and quick to action, she always managed to right a crisis faster than Diamond could gallop after the hounds. It was a rare occurrence that would catch her at a loss for words.

This, most certainly, was one of them.

Everyone was now seated at the table but Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes and Anna. John Bates, another possessing the keen sense to recognize trouble brewing from a mile away, observed this odd behavior as he entered the dining hall, the last to arrive to luncheon.

He saw the ring right away and opened his mouth just as quickly.

"Oh good, you found it then" he said in his usual calm and collected tone.

"Found what," Thomas scoffed, wondering what kind of explanation Bates would be able to offer up.

"Anna's ring," he replied with a bit of relief edging into his voice. "I'm sorry to ruin the surprise this way, but honestly I'm just glad to know that it hasn't gone to the dogs," John said with a grin, shooting a playful look at Anna and then quickly over to Elsie and Charles.

"What business do you have buying Anna a ring when you haven't even managed to get yourself a divorce yet," Sarah O'Brien snarled at Bates with a little more anger than any of them were comfortable acknowledging. Since when was she protective or even concerned?

"That's quite enough out of you," Elsie shot back, a little less forcefully than she normally would have managed towards Sarah O'Brien, but gratefully enough to not betray any of the truth of the matter at hand.

"You have all been aware of my plans to marry Anna for some time now. The matter with Mrs. Bates will be settled soon enough, and I've always felt it better to be prepared," Mr. Bates offered as explanation.

"Told you," slurred Thomas at O'Brien, a conceited smile if ever there was one slowly expanding over his visage.

Charles let out a very long, slow breath as he took his seat for luncheon. He was so very grateful Mr. Bates had decided to return to Downton. So very grateful, indeed.

Yet another crisis had been averted.

For now…


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N As much as I'd like to skip over the next few following events, I'm going somewhere with it all, I promise. **

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 19

"I cannot believe you would do that to me," Elsie snapped at Charles, just behind the closed store cupboard door. They had just returned downstairs after an impromptu meeting with her Ladyship. Charles had caught Elsie in her efforts to provide what little she could afford to Ethel in her time of need. He thought it downright foolish, ignoring the plain fact that he had bought Charles Grigg's silence in quite the similar fashion years before, and thought it only fair to inform her Ladyship of the situation.

"That girl was nothing but selfish, impulsive and downright impertinent when she was in service here," he stated firmly and without emotion. "I truly do not see why you have taken it upon yourself to be her personal savior."

His terseness froze her to the core. How could he be so unfeeling? After all that they had discussed about family and duty, how could he so easily look past the innocent life brought into this world under the most dishonourable of circumstances? True, Ethel had been quite a thorn in their sides, but what did he know of maternal desperation? She could not, and would not, let any child come into this world into beggary if there were any way in which she could provide.

"Tell me then, what exactly was I supposed to do," she countered, the edge very apparent in her voice. She would never admit to doing wrong in this situation. "If you thought I was going to let that poor babe starve, well then you don't know me at all," she all but managed as she flew out the door, soundly slamming it in his face.

Charles stared at the back of the closed store cupboard door. He fervently followed the grain of the wood, in some sort of search for answers, coming upon the occasional knothole, which bared a strikingly visual resemblance to what he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. His gaze finally landed on the metal slide, hurtling his mind back to that absurd night many years ago when Elsie had gotten stuck between the shelf and the wall, leaving him to furious weave a silly tale to throw Daisy off the scent.

He thought of their shared panic in the moment and began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. The memory of the vast, improper tear down Elsie's backside that had once caused him so much worry now brought tears to his eyes as he fought to catch his breath between open guffaws.

This was not like him. No, it was not like him at all. Charles Carson, the butler of Downton Abbey, rarely allowed himself to laugh out loud, much less lose all sense of himself in a fit of hysterics. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had carried on so. What he could remember was the overwhelming amount of joy Elsie Hughes had brought into his life over the years. If ever there were a time when he had dared to let a smile grace his lips, or heaven forbid a laugh escape his lungs, she had been there and more than likely the cause of such behaviour.

The joy and the sorrow, the pleasure and the pain, the tragedy and the triumph... they had experienced it all together, years before they had even taken the step of pledging themselves to one another. So why would he ever choose to place that in jeopardy.

For the honour of Downton.

In an instant, Charles's tears of laughter turned to those of sorrow and regret.

* * *

><p>This was, by far, the worst argument they had ever had. Sure, they were known to bicker more than occasionally. Perhaps it could even be said that they actually enjoyed the occasional row. After all, it made the making up afterward ever the sweeter.<p>

This time it was different. It was always different when betrayal was involved.

Elsie had always known that to Charles Carson, the house always came first. "The honour of Downton," was forever at stake it seemed and had been so since she had first arrived. The family was everything to Charles; she couldn't help but hope that one day she would be worth more.

Obviously that day wasn't today.

They had been married for nearly five years now, yet she still rated below keeping up appearances. The thought stung terribly, but she knew that it was partially her own fault. She entered into the bargain with full knowledge of the situation she was placing herself in. Still, she couldn't help but hope.

Foolish woman.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Well, this ended up a little differently than I had imagined. I am fighting between going completely AU and keeping the timeline but fully exploring possible emotions as they would exist between a married Elsie and Charles. (I hope to continue through the Christmas Special and beyond… to happiness!) I hope you are still enjoying the story, even though we are sailing through some rough waters. **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 20

It had been days since anything but required, civil words were exchanged between Charles and Elsie Carson. There were no shared evenings of wine, or even tea for that matter, between their respective rooms. In the entirety of their history, they had never been so distant from, and cold towards, each other.

Charles knew that he needed to apologize, only to discover that he could find no appropriate words. He had failed her in the highest order, leaving her to feel put in her place, a place below their professions. She had come to mean so much more to him than the cold, cavernous halls of Downton.

The feeling first took him by surprise all those years ago when she was still head housemaid. He had resigned to dedicate his life to the running of such a fine house, never acknowledging the possibility of having someone to hold in any esteem above his own highly valued position. Her spirit struck him first, quick wit, humour, kindness and fair nature only serving to enhance the natural beauty he tried his best to ignore. It took almost losing her to finally take the chance to claim her for his own.

Not a single day had since passed that would cause him to regret that decision.

What he had come to regret was his inability to take a stand, for her and for their marriage. He had acquiesced to keep their marriage a secret in order to keep their jobs. He consented to hide the most important thing to ever grace his life in an effort to maintain order. He had hoped that she would simply know and trust that she meant more to him than any of that, but how could she after he had hung her out to dry so unceremoniously?

He had disgraced the love of his life, and now the girl he had raised was set to marry a shady, new money newspaperman. There was most certainly a treacherous air to Sir Richard Carlisle; Charles Carson did not feel comfortable with the arrangement from the start. When he was invited to join them upon their marriage and subsequent move to Haxby, he was at a loss. How could he think of leaving? Of course, with the state of his marriage as irreparable as it currently appeared, he reluctantly decided that it might be for the best.

* * *

><p>The paternal instinct Elsie so dearly cherished within Charles would ultimately serve to be the very thing that would now lead him away from her. Perhaps a separation was what they needed. Maybe a life away from Downton would give Charles a renewed perspective. Perhaps it would show him what was truly most important in his life.<p>

Elsie would miss him of course. If she were to be completely honest with herself, she would miss him terribly. She truly did not know how she would handle his absence. He had been her world for the greater part of two decades. Thinking upon how she had managed to let him get away with that when he obviously did not care for her in the same way only served to deepen the hurt in her heart.

She wanted to go to him, to ask him to stay, but the sliver of pride she managed to maintain after his most recent display kept her from doing so. She would keep her dignity, even if it meant losing him. It pained her to wonder if she had ever managed to truly have him in the first place.

She still had Anna, though for goodness knew how long. Surely the matter with the former Mrs. Bates would be settled soon enough, she would marry John and they would be off on their new life. At least they had planned to stay on at Downton. For that, Elsie was ever so grateful. She didn't know how she would manage to endure the disappearance of one more person she loved from her life.

* * *

><p>Elsie came to Charles's pantry to let him know that the family was going in to dinner. She entered slowly and silently, allowing herself to take in the all too common sight of him sitting at his desk, scanning over his wine inventories. She indulged herself in the view as she did not know how much longer she had to enjoy it.<p>

He looked up to find her eyes, the eyes he had spent countless long moments getting lost into in times of shared tears, happy laughter and tender lovemaking, reverently regarding him. How could he tell her that he would be leaving? He found the only words he could muster, droning on about the quality of Downton's cellar.

"You've made up your mind then?" Elsie fought to keep any emotion from leaking into her voice.

"I think so. Yes, I believe I have… but with a heavy heart." Elsie wondered if this heavy heart he spoke of was related solely to the leaving of Downton or if even the slightest part of him would miss what they had had here together. She would never consider dissolution of their marriage unless it was what he wanted from her. Still, the decision to leave Downton would no longer make their marriage simply a secret.

It would make it a case of living completely separate lives.

"And just when we thought we were getting back to normal," she spoke softly as she looked back towards the door. The war had just been declared over. The war that had placed such undue stress on Charles and had taken William, placing such a great emotional toll on them all, would eventually become a bad memory. As much change as it had brought into their lives, Elsie's world would change far greater from this one simple decision.

"Don't tell me you'll miss me," Charles offered, barely able to look her in the eye. "Please tell me you'll miss me," screamed the voice inside his head.

"I will Mr. Carson. Very much… and it doesn't cost me anything to say it." She faced him fully now, unconsciously pleading with him to look her in the eye. What her pride kept her from speaking out loud would surely register in her eyes. She could not keep any emotion hidden from him when she fully well knew that they always resided so strongly in her eyes.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me." He blinked to keep his eyes clear enough to stare into hers. There wasn't much she could keep from him there. They stood there, desperately searching each other's eyes, all full of sentiment and unspoken wishes, both managing to give each other all they could now afford, the weakest of smiles.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Deviating just a tad here… In my story, Carlisle hasn't asked Anna to spy on Mary, thus taking away a much easier decision. (What fun would that be?) Bring on the Spanish Flu…

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 21

Charles sat at his desk, futilely attempting to review the books. Lists were the only form of order in his life as of late. If he didn't have his mind on processing mundane facts and figures, it was thrust into a state of torment fueled by impossible decisions that had to be made and soon. That compounded with all this outrageous business with Lady Sybil and Branson and the upcoming wedding of Matthew Crawley and Lavinia Swire had his anxiety soaring. His chest was in a constant state of ache but the heat, well the heat in his head was certainly new.

He couldn't take it anymore, he started to rise, but was gripped by an overwhelming wave of dizzying nausea. Chalking it up to nerves, he braced himself on the corner of his desk with one wavering arm as he tried to compose himself and his beleaguered thoughts. "This is ridiculous," he thought to himself as he heard the door start to creak open.

"Please don't let it be her," he silently prayed, sending up all hope that Elsie wouldn't have to see him this way. He knew how it would affect her, even if she refused to let him in enough to see it.

Elsie's heart lurched as she entered to see Charles struggling to stand at his desk. His face was reddening quickly and sweat poured from his brow. She was immediately taken back to the night he had had his attack at dinner. This time nothing would stop her from going to him.

Before he could blink, she was at his elbow, providing the best scaffold he could imagine, serving to help him stand and lift his spirit all at once. He could hear her distantly, telling him that she would take care of everything and then his own voice answering as if from a different room… something about Mr. Molesley… no, not the maids, Elsie… Doctor Clarkson… straight to bed…

"Only if you're there with me," he managed to choke out with a chuckle before his vision failed and the world went black.

"Anna," Elsie screamed out in an effort to get help. She couldn't hold his dead weight on her own. They had only managed to make it to the middle of his pantry before he collapsed onto the floor, forcefully taking him down with her.

The door flew open to reveal a concerned Tom Branson. Charles had just spent a portion of the last hour berating him over his boldness concerning a marriage with young Sybil, but when he heard Elsie's impassioned cry, he had to come. He had always admired Elsie Hughes's frankness, ignoring most of it, but honoring the fact that it always originated from a place of care and concern.

"What's happened," he asked hurriedly as he helped her sit up on the floor and quickly moved to lift Charles's shoulders and torso into a sitting position.

"He just collapsed. I was trying to tell him that I would manage…" Elsie found herself unable to continue. She fell silent as she reached out to mop Charles's brow with her handkerchief. He wasn't warm to the touch; he was boiling.

Sarah O'Brien had reached the door, witnessing the scene unfolding inside. Without hesitation, she went to fetch Thomas. The wheels in her mind spun furiously. What better way to get Thomas back in decent graces with Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes than by having him help in such a precarious situation? You can't plan better than fate.

Thomas and Branson managed to get an unconscious Charles on his feet and began the difficult process of getting him up to his room. Elsie had hurried to the telephone, only to find that Ms. O'Brien was already phoning for Doctor Clarkson. Though all she wanted to do was be at his side, she wouldn't let him down. She sent for Mr. Molesley, informed Anna and Jane of the situation, and had everything set for a successful dinner in a matter of moments. This she could, and would, do.

As the dinner progressed, it began to become increasingly obvious that something grander than an attack of nerves was unfolding with the walls of Downton. Elsie had noticed that her Ladyship looked quite frail as she supported herself on the banister of the grand staircase; Ms. O'Brien confirmed that she had felt unusually warm when dressing for dinner. Before they knew it, her Ladyship excused herself from the table under the complaint of not feeling quite right with Miss Swire soon to follow. Even Mr. Molesley began to falter when pouring the wine, excusing himself, leaving Anna to the task. The ill women retired upstairs, leaving the rest of the party searching for answers. Thankfully, Doctor Clarkson was already on his way for Charles.

Elsie kept herself busy by roaming the house, gathering every bit of information she could about what was going on. She had to piece it all together to prepare herself. Whatever this was, it was spreading like wildfire throughout the house.

Molesley sat at the servants' dining table, head in his hands and green as new spring grass. Ms. O'Brien and Elsie stood far enough away to dodge any ill effects of whatever this might be, but close enough to keep an eye on his ever slumping form. Doctor Clarkson soon entered the room, determining that Molesley was, in fact, simply drunk whilst the others had contracted Spanish Flu.

Dear God. Drunk? Honestly! Ms. O'Brien seemed to find this little tidbit quite hilarious and made sure to file it in the back of her mind as fuel for future ribbings; Elsie could have died. How completely unprofessional! She would have to deal with that later.

The second diagnosis began to push through to the forefront of her mind. Spanish Flu. She hadn't heard much about it as of late, but would resign herself to taking Doctor Clarkson's advice on how best to treat her newly acquired patients, taking comfort in the fact that Isobel Crawley was most always close at hand to be of further assistance. She could be a pushy woman, but she had a good heart and certainly knew her business. Of that, Elsie was sure.

Communicable or not, Elsie was determined to go to Charles. They had been at odds for far too long now. She wouldn't let him be ill without her by his side, regardless of their current state of strain. He may be leaving her for a sense of obligation towards Mary Crawley, but she wouldn't give him any more cause to do so.

* * *

><p>Charles awoke to darkness. He seemed to be doing that quite often as of late. His thoughts never seemed to rest, breaking through any dreams that might have been had, furiously ripping him back into a life where he had shamed his wife and faced a decision that could ultimately lead him away from her for good. He always awoke in his empty room, his empty bed, void of Elsie, void of happiness, void of hope.<p>

The only proof he had that their marriage ever existed was the ring he continued to wear in the night, always hoping that it might serve to keep the demons away. It never did. Awakening to it glinting on his finger only made things worse, but he refused to remove it. He was never one to forsake a promise.

Tonight, he found himself drenched in sweat and chilling rapidly. He fought to remember how he had gotten to his room, his last memory being Elsie at his elbow talking about… Mr. Molesley? Was he losing it already? Why did he feel so ill? His mind was swimming but nothing made sense. All he knew was that he needed a change of pajamas and an additional blanket if he were to ever regain a sense of comfort.

He began to rise when the smallest sound bent his ear. A tiny sigh came from behind him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned his head to find a sight that would serve to stop his heart.

There was Elsie, precariously perched on the very edge of the bed, sound asleep.

Charles seized the opportunity to take in the sight he thought he had long ruined and removed from his life. In sleep, Elsie's features always went soft, all traces of worry and concern lost in dreams and slumber. His eyes roamed over her lithe frame. She looked so small lying there; it was easy to note that she had dropped a bit of weight since their argument. Since his betrayal.

He longed to touch her, an affordance he had not allowed himself since the day he exposed her actions towards Ethel to her Ladyship. He would give anything to reach out and stroke her brow, her cheek, the back of her hand. He allowed his eyes to wander down to find what he so longed to seek.

She was wearing her wedding band.

Charles's eyes began to fill with tears. He knew that he should wake her and order her back to her room. Enough sense remained in his head to tell him that he was not well, and he could possibly spread whatever this was along to her. Above all else, he would do anything to keep her safe from harm. Whatever illness this was, it had been powerful enough to erase his memory of an entire day; it could not be something as simple as a case of cold.

All he wanted was to wrap her in his arms, kiss her senseless and beg her forgiveness.

He toyed with the idea of retiring to the armchair, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He needed to be near her; she had chosen to be near him. If she were to wake to him sleeping in his chair, she would feel abandoned. Worst of all, she would know that he had known she had been here. He would grant her the dignity of knowing that she hadn't been found out if indeed she chose to slip out in the early hours.

Charles quietly changed pajamas, never taking his eyes off Elsie. He started to return to his side of the bed and paused, turning on his heel. He couldn't risk kissing her properly, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't kiss her at all. Charles knelt behind her, and using the bed frame for support, leant forward and kissed the crown of her head. He took a minute to smell her hair, resting his cheek upon it for a moment before he returned to his side of the bed and resumed lying faced away from her beautiful face.

The last things he registered before succumbing to sleep were the slight little breaths she released upon his back. He realized, in that moment, that living one day without her would be impossible.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N Apparently Anna's not the only one with suspicions… (Thank you all for sticking with me. Even I'm not always sure where we're going!) ;-)**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 22

Lady Mary Crawley had delivered Doctor Clarkson to Charles's bedroom, refusing to leave as the doctor checked on his progress. He might have been a simple servant under the employment of her household, but he had always been a comforting confidant, never failing to be there for her in any hour of need. Even as was the case, he had yet to give her a firm decision on whether or not he would join her and Sir Richard at Haxby. She felt confident that he would, but couldn't help but note his hesitation on confirming the matter. Surely, he couldn't leave her to flounder when she would absolutely need him the most.

As she stood at the foot of the bed, Mary was taken aback. She had never seen Carson look so tired. He was always the strong one holding her up. Now he looked all of the years he had trod over this earth and then some. It was quite frightening to see him looking so feeble, so weak, so OLD.

This illness was not kind, it was true. She had just come from her own mother's room watching her steady decline with a weak heart and failing spirit. As she stood there with her father and sisters, she could help but feel her slipping steadily from their grasp. The only person who seemed to be faring quite well in the grip of it all was Lavinia. That fact stirred its own barrage of emotions that would have to be placed on the shelf for the moment.

Charles's anxiety began to climb once again as he asked for, received and digested news of the others. To know that her Ladyship was in such bad sorts came as quite a shock. She had always been a quite delicate woman, that was true, but she was still young he thought as he let himself feel all of his own tallied years. Doctor Clarkson seemed to be in a state of optimistic spirit, though Charles wondered if it was only for his benefit. "A worried patient cannot make for an easy patient," he thought to himself as the man went on about 'Mrs. Hughes' having medicine that she would bring up later and left the room with a simple nod and a smile.

"M'Lady?"

"Yes Carson."

"I feel that I must ask you a question, but if you don't feel comfortable answering it, I will more than understand."

"Of course, Carson. What is it?"

"Her Ladyship… I need you to be honest with me," he resigned as he gathered the courage to continue. "How bad is it… truly?"

Mary took a deep breath and let her head drop. For the first time in his life, he prayed the seconds away that he wouldn't have to look into Mary Crawley's eyes to find the truth he would see in them. She drew the small chair over from the wall to the foot of the bed and slowly dropped into it. Before she started speaking, he knew that she would be fighting the reality he was forcing her to confront.

"Worse than you can imagine, I'm afraid."

Charles found his chest tightening. If it was half as bad as he believed, he could only wonder what this illness had in store for him. He wanted to be gentle with Lady Mary, but he had to know.

"What did Doctor Clarkson say?"

Mary drew in a slow breath as she finally lifted tired, tear rimmed eyes to her fierce protector.

"If she lasts through the night, she'll live."

Charles could not have heard her correctly. There was a question of death in the matter? "What do you mean, "if" M'Lady? What is happening?"

Mary closed her eyes and let herself sink into the chair. "Oh Carson, it was frightful. There was so much blood and sick and…, "she managed, not able to go on beyond.

Charles felt a bit of relief for just a moment, as the only symptoms he had shown thus far were a horrid fever, chills, aching muscles and a bit of nausea, but was gripped with fear just as quickly. Was this what was in store?

After a moment, Lady Mary continued. "Doctor Clarkson mentioned something about a hemorrhage. I was so afraid Carson. I thought it had gone to her brain. Doctor Clarkson seems to have ruled that out though. I have to say, O'Brien has refused to leave her side; if I didn't know better, I'd worry that she'd leave us to go join the ranks with Isobel and Sybil. She honestly has been wonderful."

Charles found himself unable to process much of anything beyond, "I thought it had gone to her brain." What if he were to enter a state of delirium only to never come out the other side? What if this Spanish Flu took everything from him? All he had left of Elsie, of their marriage, beyond their current state of politeness, were his memories.

What if he lost everything?

He needed to see her. Desperately. He couldn't risk being too close, though it appeared as if everyone else in this house was sticking close to their loved ones. He couldn't help but note Elsie's distance, but then remembered her quietly slipping in to sleep against his back under the concealment of moonlight and her assumptions that he was already stolen away to dreamland.

His heart ached; this time he knew it wasn't the illness.

Charles looked up to observe Mary's pained face onto which she was so obviously forcing a smile for his benefit. He felt for her now more than ever; though there was little else he hated more in the world than the thought of letting Lady Mary Crawley down, he had to begin to put things right. As sickening as the thought was, he had to get his affairs in order.

"I'm sorry that I haven't given you an answer yet," he sighed.

"Don't you think on that now," she said shaking her head slowly. "Though I have wondered where your hesitation on the matter might come from."

Charles couldn't very well tell her that she was forcing him to leave his wife for her. It was beyond the secret keeping now. He wouldn't force her into a state of guilt for a situation he was afraid to stand up for himself.

"Carson?"

"Yes, M'Lady?"

"Is this about Mrs. Hughes?"


	23. Chapter 23

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 23

Charles started choking.

"Carson? Are you alright? Do I need to get the basin or have I simply struck a nerve," Mary asked through a sly smile. It was nice to focus on something, anything, besides the bleak nature of everything going on just beyond the door.

Charles didn't know where to begin until the most plausible explanation sprung to the forefront of his mind.

"You've been talking to Anna," he said with a disapproving, yet amused, look on his face.

"About what, pray tell?" She wore such a genuinely cheerful expression that despite what the conversation could lead to, it served to warm his heart. It had been such a long time since he had seen her happy.

"You cannot con a former showman, M'Lady. Out with it."

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Anna and I don't discuss such matters… well, beyond our mutual feeling that you two should just give it up already and fall into each other's arms," she laughed. "It's all very romantic you know… the butler and the housekeeper. We always thought so growing up. In fact, one time Edith… oh never mind."

"Lady Edith did what?"

"Oh, nothing. We were just giddy young ladies sorely in need of a bit of excitement. You know we've always wanted the best for you," she said, her smile stretching from ear to ear, though his former comment began to tug at her. "So what exactly is it that I should have been discussing with Anna?"

"Oh, nothing," he mimicked back to her with the same silly grin.

Charles couldn't believe it. Anna hadn't said a word to Lady Mary, beyond supposed speculation, though now he was sure he had done quite a good job of opening quite the can of worms himself. He had to find some way to distract her and turn the conversation around.

"Now Lady Mary, you know full well that Mrs. Hughes and I are fully dedicated to this household."

"And why does that mean that you cannot be fully dedicated to each other as well," she shot back, reminiscing on all of his advice to her on the subject of love.

His girl never did cease to amaze him.

"It simply would not be proper. We are both upstanding professionals. It would be unbecoming of our character and the character we pride ourselves in bringing to this household if we were to engage in…"

"Oh Carson, honestly," Mary said with a grand roll of her eyes. "Were you not the one who told me that if I loved Matthew that I should let him know? You seem so fond of the sentiment. Am I to believe that you would sacrifice your own happiness, your own chance at love, just to maintain the honour of Downton?" She took a brief moment to reflect on that.

"Never mind, of course you would. I should not have ventured into territory of questioning your integrity and professionalism."

Charles fell silent and began to think on that. Lady Mary could not have been more right. He had kept their marriage a secret for close to six years now and just recently had all but destroyed any hope for a future with Elsie by maintaining the "honour of Downton." He found himself hating the fact that she could not have been more on target.

Mary had started to rise to leave Charles to get some much needed rest. As she took her first few steps towards the door, Charles cleared his throat.

"M'Lady?"

"Yes Carson?"

"What if I were to tell you that it did?"


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N Elsie and Charles have always had their favorite "daughters." It's time for Charles's to be let in on the secret… **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 24

Charles watched intently as Mary slowly turned on her heel, revealing a smile as broad as the Cheshire cat's. For a moment, he saw her as the little imp whose grand schemes always elicited his rolling laughter, often causing her to frown in disappointment but eventually break down right along with him. Gone were the burdens of entails, engagements, war and fatal illness. In that moment, she became his happy, mischievous, fun-loving girl again.

"I knew it," she exclaimed as she ran back to sit in the chair. "You've been holding out on me, Carson."

"I have done nothing of the sort, M'Lady."

"But, you just said…" she continued with an air of disappointment. "Wait, does she know? Have you told her?"

Now this was interesting. In a time now fraught with them, Charles found himself burdened with yet another decision to make. He could either confess everything right then or feign that Elsie was unaware, potentially eliciting Lady Mary's help in what would appear to be wooing her for the first time instead of winning her back. He had all but spelled out that he had feelings for her and would have to deal with the aftermath of that decision as it came, but this new development could serve to work in his favor.

That is, if he could get Lady Mary to play along…

"Well," she asked expectantly, teetering on the edge of the chair like a child awaiting a special treat.

Charles thought for a moment, but was not afforded the chance to speak out his decision.

"Carson? What is that?" Lady Mary was looking off to his side and began to extend a finger out to point at the small bedside table.

"What's wha…" Charles started as he turned his head to find not only his own wedding band glinting under the faint lamplight but Elsie's as well. He couldn't remember removing it himself. Thank goodness Elsie had thought to do it for him, though she surely could have picked a better place to store it. But why was hers here? His moment of hesitation to think on the matter would cost him.

He shot a hand out to retrieve them from where they rested, but not before Mary had leapt to her feet and snatched them off the table herself. She normally would not have been so impetuous, so impertinent, but this was Carson; he was the only adult she had come to trust enough to be playful with. She knew that her actions would never cause offense, often strangely creating more affection, though she never could understand why.

She opened her fingers ever so slowly to reveal the two golden rings resting in her palm.

"So how long should I have been calling her Mrs. Carson, then?"

"M'Lady…"

"Carson! How could you," she asked, genuine hurt shining clearly through her defeated tones.

Carson sighed. It was out now. Lady Mary was beyond disappointed. She would undoubtedly tell his Lordship and the two of them would be out on their respective ears. Twenty plus years of total devotion and service to this family, all for naught.

"I cannot believe that you, of all people, would not have given her a proper wedding," she sighed.

He could not have heard her correctly.

"Pardon," he choked out.

"Honestly Carson! We all know that Mrs. Hughes… excuse me… Mrs. CARSON," she said loudly and pointedly, "runs this household at a level of respect and propriety equal to yours, but every woman deserves a proper wedding, a proper marriage. How long have you been keeping her a secret, anyways?"

Lady Mary's words stung quite fiercely. It was one thing to think of keeping their relationship a secret, but to think of it as keeping HER a secret was another pain entirely. It was hardly a thought that he hadn't been struggling with himself their entire marriage. Lately, under the strain of recent events, it all but consumed his every waking thought.

"Do you think for one minute that I have enjoyed keeping the happiest part of my life a secret from everyone I've cared about for this long," he asked her, a brusque tone previously unknown to Mary entering his quavering voice. "It is simply not what is done. It is not proper."

"Proper? Who is to say what is and is not proper? Tradition? Oh Carson," she sighed, shaking her head. "It should always come down to what you feel, what makes you happy." Clearly she had been spending far too much time with her mother, she reflected. She was hardly one to talk on feelings, but Carson was, and she was determined to get through to him. He deserved happiness, and it was clear, had always been clear, that Elsie Hughes brought that into his life, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not.

"My position makes me happy, M'Lady. Downton makes me happy." He decided to risk a break in propriety with his next sentiment. "Our family makes me happy."

"And does this family not include Mrs. Hugh… Mrs. Carson?" She knew she was overstepping, but she never was one to back down from a fight, especially for a cause she believed in wholeheartedly. "I'm not sure she'd be happy to hear that."

How much should he tell her? How much was proper? How much would break his confidence, his vows, to Elsie?

"The simple fact is, M'Lady, if we were to be dismissed, we would lose everything. We would lose not only our jobs, and possibly our own dignity and honor, but we would lose our family. It's true that Elsie is the greatest family I could ever ask for, and I beg your pardon for saying so, but seeing as we could never have children of our own…" He found that he could not continue.

"Carson. I know that you care for me, and that you've let yourself take the risk of letting me in as more than the child of your employers, but I hardly feel the same sentiment emanating from Mrs. Hughes." She had never found Elsie Hughes to be the particularly maternal type.

He knew that he should not continue, but he could not help himself. He knew that Mary maintained a relationship with Anna beyond what was deemed appropriate between an employer and servant. Of all people, she was bound to understand. "The truth is, M'Lady, she has become quite attached to the staff, Anna in particular. She is not the outwardly emotional type, but I assure you, she feels things quite fiercely. In fact, she reminds me quite a bit of you, actually."

Mary never in all her days would have thought herself comparable to the housekeeper. Then again, wasn't she the one who told Anna that she herself "didn't have a heart?" Elsie Hughes had always upheld a strict detachment and put forth a particularly professional demeanor at all times, but Carson was also capable of the same outward projections and yet she knew that he cared for her deeply. He didn't show it all the time, and hardly ever in public, but it was always there. Perhaps the "cold and careful" Mrs. Hughes wasn't so frigid after all.

"Well, I am certainly not going to allow myself to be the cause of the dissolution of your marriage" Mary exclaimed, wondering why Carson had even allowed himself to consider the choice in the first place. "What would cause you to even consider it, beyond your protective feelings, that is? Is something wrong? Has something gone badly between the two of you?"

Charles could not endure it anymore. He had not been able to discuss any of his inner turmoil with anyone. It was true that Anna and Mr. Bates were aware of his and Elsie's marriage, but Carson did not feel comfortable sharing his feelings with either of them. In all honesty, Carson did not feel comfortable sharing his emotions with anyone. It had taken Elsie years to break through that wall and for him to break through hers. They had each other; they did not need anyone else.

Until now.

He let the whole story pour forth. He told her of catching Elsie out, the situation with Ethel, and how he had made her confess all to Her Ladyship. Mary sat still, listening with rapt attention, still processing the fact that Carson and Mrs. Hughes were actually married and had been for quite some time. As he brought the story to a close, she found herself saddened, for Carson of course but more for Mrs. Hughes.

"I just cannot bring myself to understand," she started. "I like to think that I've come to know you well Carson, even to know your heart a bit myself. Goodness knows that I fully comprehend how much honour and doing the right thing mean to you, but I cannot believe that you would put all of that before your own wife, who you obviously adore. I mean, honestly we've all known it for years, but just hoped that you two would realize it yourselves at some point. It's true that Mrs. Hugh… Mrs. Carson… I'm going to have to take a bit of time to get used to that I'm afraid… and I are far from close, but even I have to side with her on this one, I'm afraid."

Mary could tell by the look on Charles's face that he was suffering under the strain of his actions, and she didn't want to cause him further stress in his condition, but she wanted him to know just how warranted Elsie's feelings were in the situation. "Frankly, I'm quite disappointed."

There was little else Charles hated more than disappointing Mary Crawley. He also knew that she knew it. This was what was making the decision to not make the journey to Haxby with her all the more painful of a choice, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't leave his Elsie, though he still feared he had lost her in all of this madness.

"That's just it, I'm afraid," he confessed. "I think I may have ruined things beyond repair."

In that moment, Mary certainly felt for Carson, but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was right.


	25. Chapter 25

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 25

Elsie gripped the medicine Doctor Clarkson had given her to dispense to Charles with such ferocity, she thought it would surely break, cutting her hand but serving to replace the pain in her heart with the more manageable physical variety. She had just passed her Ladyship's room at the height of a hemorrhage. She hadn't seen such blood pour forth from anyone's face before. Even the boys who used to come to fisticuffs on the farm never displayed such visual damage. Though she felt sorry for the Countess, it frightened her to think that anything similar could possibly happen to Charles. Could his body withstand such internal trauma?

She had reluctantly sent Thomas up with a tray earlier. She would make sure that he was eating, come hell or high water. She just hoped that whatever he managed to get down would stay down.

She knew she should go to him. She wanted nothing more than to keep vigil by his side but knew he wouldn't have anything of the sort. He saw illness as weakness, as a burden. She would have to keep the grand ship sailing for him. He would see so much more worth in that than her sitting still by his side. In such a time of unknown possibilities, she wanted so badly to prove her worth.

* * *

><p>Charles couldn't help but wonder when, or if, Elsie would ever come to check on him. He was thoroughly disappointed that Thomas had brought him dinner, partly because Thomas was inexplicably still in the house, but more than that, he had hoped that she would at least pop in at some point. He felt quite guilty that his illness undoubtedly left her running the whole of operations, especially with a wedding on the ever nearing horizon, yet he still longed for a visit, as impossible as the business would make it.<p>

What could be keeping her away? "You fool," he thought to himself. "You damn well know what's keeping her away."

Doctor Clarkson had told him that he had given Elsie medicine that she would bring up later. He knew, thankfully, that she wouldn't trust Thomas, or even Anna, to carry out that task. He thought back to when he was unwillingly laid up in bed after his attack of nerves and Elsie had forcefully thrust that spoonful of dreadful medicine all but down his throat, allowing the spoon to hang there in her exasperation. He smiled and shook his head.

She was always full of fire.

* * *

><p>Elsie paced the hall outside Miss Swire's door. The young girl who just hours ago was sitting up, talking with her future mother in law and fiancé, was now in the grips of an unforeseen, vicious attack. Through the crack of the slightly open door, she could hear the choking, the desperate gasps for air, followed by the hollow, resounding silence.<p>

The girls slowly exited first, followed by his Lordship, Isobel Crawley and Doctor Clarkson. Elsie looked into Isobel's shocked, clouded and desolate eyes, and her heart sank. The girl was so young. Her Ladyship was still rather young. What was left to believe in for Charles?

Isobel gave Doctor Clarkson a knowing look; they both advanced slowly on Elsie. Isobel took Elsie's hands into her own. She may not have known the depth of Elsie's relationship with Charles, but she knew that there was one, even if it was a case of simple friendship. That fact was quite enough. Elsie looked to Doctor Clarkson.

"I think you should go to him, Mrs. Hughes. I think you best hurry."

* * *

><p>Elsie's hands trembled as she reached out to turn the doorknob to his room. She was terrified as to what waited for her on the other side of the door. What if he had already left her for good and she had not even afforded him the chance to say goodbye?<p>

Charles's eyes were closed, his skin pale in the faint light. He had left a candle burning. He never left candles burning.

She closed the door behind her and slowly made her way over to the bed. He was resting in what could only be described as an unbearably uncomfortable position, half reclined, facing the door looking as if he were left expecting something. Her heart seized.

He had been waiting for her.

She swiftly closed the distance, letting herself fall onto the bed, onto him, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks and onto his already damp pajamas, sweat through from fever. How could she have left him waiting for her all this time? How could she have kept herself from him as he suffered?

It took a moment for her to register the warmth that began to envelop her, not only radiating through her chest but crossing gently over her back and tightening ever so slowly. "Shhhhh," she heard faintly from a small distance above her head. She turned her eyes, shining blue as ever through the redness of emotion, up to meet his, looking down upon her with concern. "Whatever did I do to deserve such a beautiful woman in my bed?"

"Heavens Charles, I thought you were dead" she exclaimed, tightening her arms around him.

"Without kissing my wife goodbye, first," he scoffed. "You can't get rid of me that easily Elsie Carson." It pained him to go on, but he was still worried about what this illness could have in store both for him and for Elsie if she continued to stay so close to him. "You know you shouldn't be here. It cannot be safe."

Elsie turned her head back down, resting her cheek upon his chest. The sound of his heartbeat, his breathing, reminded her that he was still alive just as it had the night William had passed. So many young souls had passed in such a short time. She didn't want to worry Charles, but she had to let him know.

"Doctor Clarkson suggested I come. Miss Swire…"

Charles wondered what could have happened to the young Miss Swire. Just a few hours ago, when he had visited with Mary, she had been faring well. Her Ladyship seemed to be in quite the more precarious situation. "What about Miss Swire, love?"

"She's died."

Now this was cause for concern. It was quite enough that her Ladyship had been experiencing such horrific symptoms of the disease at her age, but the young Miss Swire? She was as young as Lady Mary… such life to live yet ahead of them. What hope did he have of making it through?

Apparently Elsie shared his thoughts as he couldn't help but register her embrace gradually growing tighter. "I do believe that you will serve to be the death of me, my dear," he started to joke. "This flu seems to be the least of what's taking my breath away."

She wanted so badly to kiss him, to lose herself in him as she had done when William died. He knew her well enough to know that she was feeling this way, but he wouldn't allow her to put herself in danger, even if it were to ultimately join him. In sickness and in health…

Suddenly a knock fell upon the door. Elsie could not bring herself to move, to let him go. Not yet. She did not care who would open that door and how they would see them together in that room. Luckily Charles had enough sense and strength to help her to a sitting position, scooting her to the edge of the bed. To any unsuspecting onlooker, they would appear as two very good friends, she simply full of concern and care.

Doctor Clarkson entered the room with Isobel just a step behind. They had decided to give Elsie a few moments with Charles alone, knowing that if anything were to be amiss, they would be summoned immediately. Since that was not the case, but knowing that he should be evaluated, they appeared after a short time.

Elsie stood and followed Isobel out into the hall. Isobel registered Elsie's harrowed features and red rimmed eyes, but afforded her the privacy of not mentioning either. Doctor Clarkson emerged after a few minutes, finally able to offer a smile to the concerned.

"He seems to be faring quite well. He hasn't shown any signs of the more concerning symptoms that we've seen in the others. In fact, his fever remains steady at quite a low grade and he states he is feeling less aches."

"Could he be putting on a brave face, as it were," Elsie asked, concerned that Charles may be in a state of denial as to the severity of his condition, not mainly to himself but for her benefit.

"He could be making light of his pain," Doctor Clarkson stated cautiously, "but only in an effort to be optimistic or to get back to work and a sense of normalcy, I believe. Do him a favor, Mrs. Hughes, and make him stay in bed for at least another day or so."

"You don't know Charles Carson very well, do you Doctor Clarkson," she laughed, despite the situation. "Then again, you don't know me that well either. He won't be crossing that threshold unless it's over my dead body."

* * *

><p>"So, what's the verdict? Will I live," he asked playfully, trying his best to make light of the situation.<p>

"Now is not the time to joke," Elsie hissed. They were now alone again in his room, the staff aware that she was to watch over him under Doctor Clarkson's orders.

"I heard about her Ladyship," he said quietly. "Lady Mary came by. She was quite stoic about it all, as expected, but she did tell me what Doctor Clarkson had said."

"Oh Charles, it was terrible. I just happened by when she went into a full blown hemorrhage. There was so much blood. I was terribly frightened," she said as she crossed over to sit on the bed once again. "I was sure that you were next."

"Well thank you for the vote of confidence," he muttered, knowing full well that he had felt just the same a mere few hours before.

"You know I couldn't take it if…"

Charles grasped her shoulders and moved her to lie back down upon his chest. "I'm not going anywhere without you, my dear. You should know that by now," he soothed as he stroked her back gently. He felt her begin to relax into him, allowing her breath to even out, both realizing just how long it had been since they allowed themselves such a moment of tenderness.

"Does that include Haxby," she managed to whisper, barely audible through a grand yawn.

He couldn't believe she would still be worried about that in the midst of everything else. Of course, he had done anything but reassure her that she should not be. He let his hands continue to roam over her back as he brought his cheek to rest upon the top of her head and whispered into her hair. "It's funny you should mention that…"

The second she did not respond to his curious offering, full of light and promise, he knew that she had fallen asleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N Perhaps a secret shared is a burden halved… (In our story, Anna's revelation of her plans to secretly marry Mister Bates comes after Mary has talked with Carson.)**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 26

Anna was giving the duvet a final smoothing over when Lady Mary entered the room. Anna thought that she had not planned for changing that evening and asked her the same. Upon hearing that she had just returned for a handkerchief, and noting the expression on her face, she decided to deliver her request. She hoped that it would not only release her from the confines of her own secret but also serve as a bit of a distraction from the turmoil going on behind all of the closed bedroom doors.

"Can you keep a secret?"

As soon as the words left her lips, she knew how ridiculous they sounded. Years before, they had participated in an event that resulted in the grandest secret Anna thought she would ever have the duty of concealing… until she had figured out the one held by Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, that is.

"You see, Mister Bates and I… we had a plan… to get married."

"What is this world I am living in," Mary thought to herself as she processed Anna's words. Less than an hour ago Carson had admitted to secretly being married to Mrs. Hughes for God knows how long and now Anna was planning to run off with her father's valet? Admittedly, the latter did not come as that much of a shock as it had always been the plan that Anna and Bates would marry, before that dreadful leech of a wife of his came along anyhow. But now? Right after the wretched woman's death? Wouldn't that appear suspicious?

"But why now?"

Anna told her of his concerns regarding the police and her need to have a proper place in his life if anything unfortunate were to happen. With the Spanish Flu turning the house upside down, the last thing she wanted to do was place more of a burden on its residents and on Mrs. Hughes. Mary would hear nothing of it. Anna had always been there for her, had always been her friend despite the impositions placed upon them by their respective social standings. Mary would do anything she could to help Anna realize her fondest hopes for the future, but something did not sit well with her.

"But Anna," Mary sighed. "Honestly, the registrar's office? Don't you want to get married in a church… have a proper wedding?"

Anna found herself smiling, reminded of the day she and Mister Bates had gone to the church to pray for William and Matthew. "Mister Bates once told me that I deserved a church wedding. Do you know what I told him?"

Mary couldn't even begin to imagine. Anna was nothing if full of surprises.

"I told him, 'I'd rather have the right man than the right wedding.'"

"And did you mean that Anna, truly, or were you just telling him that so he wouldn't feel badly, because you know, I could talk to Papa…"

Anna dared, just this once, to interrupt her. "I certainly did mean that. I do mean it. Marriage isn't about what sort of wedding you have, it's about the new life you are about to begin. The promises you make to one another are for yourselves, not for anyone else. What should it matter if there is a single witness in attendance or a flock? All I know is that I won't rest until I am Mrs. John Bates, and I am honestly frightened that if we don't do this now, we might never get the opportunity to again. Not for a long time at least."

Anna certainly was brave, Mary noted. "Have you told anyone," she began. "Mrs. Carson?"

"What?" Anna could not believe what she had just heard. Were her ears deceiving her? Did Lady Mary make an innocent mistake or did she know more?

Mary regretted the slip of surname as it exited her lips. Had she indeed just broken Carson's confidence? If she had, she was glad it was with Anna, because who better to share yet another secret with than the best confidant she had ever known.

The look of slight panic on Lady Mary's face spoke volumes to Anna. She knew, but how?

"You know?" – "You knew?"

They spoke in tandem, their voices tinged with both shock and realization. Both went wide eyed and silent, followed swiftly by a fit of giggles.

"Carson just told me now," Mary started, now knowing why he had said that she must have been talking to Anna. Her initial suspicions were right on target. "Anna! How long have you known?"

Anna turned a bit pink as she lowered her eyes from Lady Mary's. "Oh, I don't know. Five I figure." "Please let her think in terms of days, weeks, months even," she silently prayed. She couldn't bring herself to tell her that she had known, and kept it from her, for five years.

"Five what exactly," Mary pressed on, full well knowing that Anna had known for much longer than she was letting on.

"Years," Anna mumbled to the floor.

"Five years?" Mary was stunned. "Anna! We've been making up stories about them for as long as I can remember and you didn't think to let me know that our imaginings could possibly be true for FIVE YEARS?" Mary found herself a bit hurt at the thought that she wasn't deemed worthy or capable of handling this secret, considering the depth of the one they already shared.

Anna did feel a bit sad, and more than a bit guilty, that she had not been able to reveal the truth of their long held suspicions about the butler and the housekeeper, but she knew that Lady Mary would ultimately understand why. "M'Lady. Consider that for a moment. Those two are so terrified of losing their positions in this house that they've kept it a secret from everyone… much to the detriment of themselves, I'm afraid."

"Carson told me as much," Mary sighed. "I really do hope that everything will work out between the two of them." She decided not to say much else in case Anna was unaware of the current state of things. "How did you find out, anyhow? Did she tell you?"

"Oh no, she wouldn't have dared" Anna exclaimed. "Can you imagine Mister Carson's reaction if she would have? 'It's simply not proper.'" Anna put her hands down fiercely at her sides and did her best imitation of Charles's thundering voice with her own small one. It was quite an amusing sight that nearly sent Mary into hysterics. "It's just not done" Mary shot back deeply with a wag of her finger.

Mary lived for these moments with Anna, both of the women letting go of pretense and allowing themselves to be silly young girls, if only for the briefest of time. It was sorely needed in the midst of this recent storm of illness and the impending weddings of both her own love to another and herself to a "second best."

"So how DID you find out," Mary asked with great interest.

"I figured it out on my own" Anna offered, proudly.

That was Anna, "the house detective," thought Mary. "Of course you did, but how?"

"I started to notice that Mrs. Hughes had a little mark on her ring finger at breakfast, but it was quickly faded by midday. Still, every morning it was there. One day, I decided to look at Mr. Carson's hand to see if he had one too."

"And he did," Mary jumped in, full of excitement. "Oh Anna, you are brilliant."

"Well that," she grinned, "and the fact that he accidentally slipped and called her "Mrs. Car… HUGHES," once when they unexpectedly bumped into me on the stairwell." Her terribly poor imitation of Carson sent Mary rolling again, wiping the welcomed happy tears from her eyes.

"He didn't!"

"Oh, but he did! That's what gave me the idea to look at his hand the next day. There was actually talk a few month before that Mrs. Hughes had met a suitor at the fair. I had hoped that the mysterious mark did not involve this unknown fellow up and until I found out the truth."

"Mrs. Hughes had a suitor?" Mary was intrigued by the hidden excitement. Who would have thought that all of this action unfolded right under their noses for all these years? "The plot thickens!"

"You know, I never did figure out the truth of that matter," Anna reflected with interest for a moment, dismissing the thought just as quickly with a brief wave. "Anyhow, we've had quite a few adventures downstairs keeping all this secret, I can assure you."

"I'm still a bit disappointed that I wasn't let in on the fun," Mary said with a frown. Oh what a bit of distraction would have done for her throughout the stress of the war.

"You can understand their position though, right? I really do think that tradition, propriety, respect and honour mean everything to them."

"Yes, there's that," Mary started. "But there's more."

"Like what, M'Lady?" This was interesting. Anna couldn't help but wonder where Lady Mary's thoughts on the situation would lead.

"Like family."

"Yes, I do believe it would kill Mister Carson to be separated from you M'Lady," Anna tread gently but comforted by the fact that she knew Mary understood the depths of his feelings towards her. He had practically raised her after all.

Mary decided that it was only right to let Anna in on what Carson had told her about Mrs. Hughes. If, in fact, the police were not finished with Mister Bates, Anna would need as much support and love as she could get in the times to come. "As his missus would with you," Mary said as she squeezed Anna's hand. "Maybe you should tell her about your plan. Obviously she would understand."

* * *

><p>Anna knocked quietly on Elsie's door. Upon not receiving an answer, she turned the knob and eased it open just a crack. She wasn't in there. Of course she wasn't. Surely, in his condition, she would be with Mister Carson.<p>

After a few anxious moments, and convincing herself that under the strain and grandeur of this mysterious illness and its resounding circumstances it would not be questioned, she made her way up into the men's side and knocked quietly on Charles's door. Again, she received no answer. Strongly compelled to talk to Elsie after her time with Lady Mary, Anna slowly turned the knob and let herself into Charles's room.

As she closed the door behind her, she turned her attentions towards his tiny bed where the two pillars of decorum lied so tightly pressed together, dead to the world. She thought back to that harried morning in Elsie's sitting room all those years ago when she had to wake them, incorporate Mister Bates into the scheme, feign fainting and then drop it all in a heartbeat to catch the train to London. She stifled a giggle at the silliness of it all, realizing that her plan with Mister Bates was insanely tame compared to what always inevitably evolved out of keeping the Carsons' secret.

In that tender moment, watching them sleep together so peacefully despite the severity of the illness he was battling, Anna was comforted by and never so sure in her decision to marry Mister Bates. As she turned to leave, something familiar caught her eye.

She walked over to the table and retrieved the two golden bands from their resting place. Ever so carefully, she slipped Elsie's onto her ring finger, gently resting her hand back down upon Charles's chest. She delicately lifted Charles's hand from Elsie's back, slipping his on to match. _That's better_.

She took a brief moment to watch them once more before gingerly making her way back towards the door. "Goodnight mum, goodnight dad," she whispered with a smile before letting herself out and easing the door closed, leaving them to a well-deserved night of undisturbed slumber.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N So I may have went a little off the deep end with the last chapter. I just wanted to throw in a bit of fun amongst the angst. We're slowly coming around to where we belong.**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 27

Elsie awoke in the middle of the night to find herself safely tucked in Charles's embrace. He still felt a bit warm but far from boiling; for that, Elsie sent up a small prayer of thanks. She was back where she belonged and couldn't help but save any larger prayers for it to remain this way for the remainder of their days.

She did not remember much of their evening beyond returning to his arms after speaking with Doctor Clarkson and Isobel. Running the household whilst suffering from endless, unspoken worry had consumed and exhausted her. She actually found herself looking forward to Charles's unflappable, yet anxiety-ridden, leadership, surely and soundly by her side.

Wait.

Would he be staying? Elsie couldn't remember if she had asked him about his intentions towards Haxby. She thought that she had, but in the haze of disturbed slumber, she couldn't feel sure of anything. The simple fact was that she was there, sleeping in Charles's arms again. For tonight, that would be enough.

She had fallen asleep lying atop him, her cheek pressed against his heart. His arms were draped across her back, wrapping her snugly in security. She tilted her head, ever so slightly to steal a moment to watch him sleep.

Instinctively, Elsie reached over to the small side table to retrieve the ring she had left there the night before. In the darkness, she let her fingers be her eyes as she felt around the cool surface. A brief moment of panic passed before she recognized the familiar feeling of the band already resting on her finger. She gave it a brief twirl, wondering how it had managed to get there. She couldn't remember putting it on herself. She felt for Charles's hand and realized that he was wearing his as well.

"Sweet man," she thought to herself. He must have slipped them on after she had fallen asleep.

Elsie found it of the utmost importance for Charles to see that she was wearing her ring when he awoke. She wanted him to realize that "Forever & Always" had always meant just that to her. No matter what argument or obstacle they had been presented with, and would undoubtedly encounter in the future, she intended to conquer it by his side. Together.

Whether he liked it or not.

* * *

><p>Charles awoke to darkness, as was the standing habit of late. Luckily, he found himself in the unusual circumstance of being bound up in the twining limbs of his beautiful wife.<p>

His Elsie.

He glanced down to find his arms residing in their most rightful, comfortable position around her middle. She had buried her face into his chest and was snoring ever so lightly. The tiny sound cheered his heart, providing yet another form of sensory proof that it was not a dream, she was here with him, but also giving him something to kid her about later. They had always thrived on their shared humour; in these times, every little sliver of joyful potential became a precious treasure of possibility.

Part of him wanted to wake her, to tell her that he could never leave her and that he would never give her cause to think he would ever again, but he knew that she must be exhausted. He couldn't imagine running Downton on his own, and she had been cursed to do just that. All because of this damn illness. Come morning, he would find a way to start easing back into his duties. The four surrounding walls had become an infuriating prison, trapping him with his thoughts of guilt, first towards Elsie and then towards Lady Mary, and also with absolutely nothing to do. It was the worst combination he could imagine.

The first thing he wanted Elsie to see when she awoke was that he was wearing his wedding band. He knew how much the sentiment had always meant to her; when she had slipped into his room to secretly sleep by his side the night before, she had made it a point to wear hers. The deed was certainly not lost on him.

He reached over to the side table to obtain their rings. She had fallen asleep before they had a chance to put them on, so he would do it for her. He felt his chest tighten a bit when his hands blindly felt around to find an empty surface until he saw the slightest glint reflect off the small hand lightly resting on his chest. He let his own hand stray over into the moonlight filtering through the window to see that he was wearing his as well.

"Lovely woman," he thought to himself. She must have woken in the night and slipped them on their fingers.

Everything was going to be alright. They were going to be alright. The thought consumed him as he fell back into slumber.

* * *

><p>Charles awoke to the chill of absence. His warm little radiator of a wife was gone from the bed as the sun shone brightly through the window.<p>

"Good morning," came the lilt that had come to light his world. He blinked a bit and turned to find Elsie sitting in the small wooden chair that she had pulled up alongside his bed. She was pouring some liquid from a small glass bottle into a spoon.

"Oh no," he grumbled as his eyes began to adjust to the scene that was unfolding.

"Oh yes, my dear," she replied as she finished her meticulous measurement. "Be a good boy, now," she laughed as she held out the spoon.

He took it with a frown, downing the contents in a choking gulp. "Vile stuff," he thought, mentally imparting curses upon the dear Doctor Clarkson.

"Feeling more yourself" she asked gently, with far more compassion than when doling out the putrid medication, he noted.

"A bit," he replied.

They talked briefly about the recently departed Miss Swire and what would lie in store for poor Matthew Crawley. Eventually the conversation strayed to Lady Mary and her own future, the future that would take her away from Downton, possibly with Charles in tow.

"Haxby still needs a lot of work," he said through a sigh.

"Well if anyone can head such an operation, it would surely be you," she said as rose to busy herself with the tray she had brought up. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes as her own stung so badly with unshed tears.

"Elsie," he said softly.

"Yes," she replied to the wall.

"I can't lift your chin or cup your cheek, so I'll have to ask you to look at me please."

Elsie began to bite her lip. She would not break. She had made it this far. She had taken care of everything, and everyone, within the walls of Downton during this period of turmoil and trial. She would not be weak in front of him. Not this time. She turned her head slightly, letting one eye regard him warily.

"Do you honestly believe that I would leave you?"

"You don't have much of a choice in the matter, now do you," she spoke outright more than asked. "I understand the depth of your love for that girl. Honestly, I cannot say that I would not do the same for Anna if I were ever placed in such a position."

It pained him that he couldn't get out of that damn bed and take her in his arms. "Do you think that I care for her more than I do for you?"

"Children incite strong bonds, Charles. It is a different love, but I would be foolish to discount it or compare it to my own."

The distance of a few feet never felt more like a deep chasm than it did at that moment. Charles couldn't take it anymore.

"Elsie, would you please come here," he asked gently as he patted the small spot next to him on the bed. How many times had they done this in the past? They certainly could argue, but it always made the making up all the sweeter.

Despite the risk that her countenance would surely crack if she closed the distance, she made her way over to the bed.

"You are going to cut straight through if you don't quit that," he said as he brushed her cheek gently.

She let her eyes rest on the floor. There were no more words to be spoken.

Charles wrestled with the bedcovers as he sat up in the small bed. He suddenly grasped Elsie by the shoulders, bringing her back down upon his chest, urging her to lie back down fully against him as they had done through the night.

"What are you doing," she issued through a nervous laugh.

"Bringing you back to where you belong," he said into her hair.

"There's much work to be done Charles," she protested, all the while contradictorily allowing her body to relent and sink back into him, her cheek back resting upon his chest.

"Spare me a moment, love? I'm a very ill man, you know."

Elsie rolled her eyes. At least he still had his humour. He most likely wouldn't after she sentenced him to yet another day sequestered in his room.

"Did I really give you cause to believe that I could live without this, without you?"

Elsie felt her breath catch. Charles felt it as well, giving him his answer.

"I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am," he began, his own voice catching upon the words.

Elsie buried her face further into his chest, allowing an arm to snake around his waist.

"I tarnished the most important element of a marriage. I broke your trust. I could not forgive myself for what I did, and in doing so, I pushed you away further." Charles was starting to break. "For the first time in my whole life, I didn't know how to fix a problem. I thought I lost you, and it was all my fault."

Elsie felt the tears before she realized he had shed them. She turned her face to look upon his, her own eyes clouded but refusing to give in to her own beckoning tears. She raised a hand to brush them from his cheeks, shuffling her body up to sit alongside him.

Side by side. Together.

Not being able to show him how much she loved him was tearing at her. They had been kept apart for so long, first by pride, followed by illness. Now she found that guilt was eating him alive.

Elsie took his face into her hands, tilting his head forward in an effort to capture his forehead with her lips. She continued down until she reached the corner of his eye, kissing the last of the remaining tear that hung from his lashes. She let herself continue onto his cheek before he turned his head away from her.

"Elsie," he moaned. "You have to know how much I want this, how much I want to be with you right now, but I won't have you putting yourself in the position to catch this dreadful illness. I won't have you go the way of the young Miss Swire, not when we have so much more road to travel together."

His words began to sink in as she sighed and sank back against the headboard.

"You won't be going to Haxby then?"

He laughed heartily as he tucked her head to rest in the crook of his neck.

"We may need to call Doctor Clarkson back here," he said in a serious tone.

Elsie's chest tightened as she shot up, grasping his arm and feeling his head for fever.

"Why, what's wrong? What hurts? Are you going to be ill?"

Charles was now nearly rolling. "No. I just think you are sorely in need of having your hearing tested."

Elsie landed a sound slap upon his shoulder as she indulged in a brief moment of rest, wrapped around her love.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N This was a particularly hard chapter to write. My very first fic "Blessing in the Bleak" was written to resolve my feelings regarding the finale of series 2. Although I would like to believe that what I wrote there was what had happened after the cameras stopped rolling, so to speak, I have found myself tempted to go in another direction here. I hope it doesn't come off as overly out of character and urge you to read the other fic to realize my true feelings on the situation. **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 28

This wasn't happening.

Images of everyone lining the hall suddenly became ghostly outlines, stretching this way and that. The only sight which remained clear as day was the rough exterior of the door that led out to the courtyard. The door generally reserved as a symbol of freedom for any other servant on any other day.

The two men treated the gentle soul with no more care than a wild animal that needed to be tamed as they drug him towards that door. All eyes followed the spectacle, watching the man respectfully resigning himself to fate. No one dared to move, affected more by the sense of shock than anything else.

Elsie felt her normally stiff posture starting to give way. The strength in her legs was gradually seeping away, her body numbing and her vision becoming an ever closing tunnel. All at once, she registered Charles's hand upon her lower back, inconspicuously grasping hold of her dress as if he sensed that she was falling.

As the thick door clicked shut with what could only be heard in Elsie's own ears as a huge bang, Charles moved to stand behind her, using his carefully hidden hands to guide her to face Anna. In that moment, it was the last sight on this earth that she wanted to see. He gave her a gentle nudge, tugging at her sleeve in an effort to show her that they were in this together.

Anna's chin was set in a full on tremble, displaying the girl's honourable struggle to keep composure. The girl with the sweet and caring nature was rarely shy with her emotions, but she was also determined. She would not break, at least whilst Mr. Bates was still in the house. Now that he was gone, Elsie and Charles were going to have to deal with the aftermath.

They descended upon Anna in all but a run, fearing that the girl would drop to the floor. She was a tough one, but if there was ever a case for breaking down, this was surely it. They, as well as God and every other living creature in the hall, had just heard Anna's confession loud and clear. Dealing with the situation as they all knew it before now was one thing. Being married and having your husband hauled off to jail under the charge of murder was certainly another.

Charles immediately demanded that the staff vacate the immediate premises, ordering them to various duties, most of which had already been completed in the wake of preparing for the attendance of Miss Swire's funeral. As Anna was a favorite to most everyone, they began to disperse, if only to find refuge somewhere, anywhere, away from what would undoubtedly become the wrath of Mr. Carson for anyone who dared disobey.

Sarah O'Brien began to speak out in protest, but paused after the first word of dissent left her lips. It was one thing to try and sabotage someone's position in the house but knowing what a charge of murder could eventually lead to was quite another. She glanced at Anna out of the corner of her eye and found herself scampering to retrieve a cigarette.

Anna's face was eerily blank as her eyes vacantly stared out to the door. Elsie and Charles each reached out for an elbow, providing the scaffold Anna would refuse to ever ask for. They looked to each other, mentally preparing for the worst that could be imagined to follow, as they began to guide their injured little bird to the safety and privacy of Elsie's sitting room.

Elsie reached out her free hand to open the door. As they all stepped through together, she loosened the hold on Anna's arm, dropping her hand to her side. Charles glanced over at her with concern; she had turned away from them to face the door. He delivered Anna to the settee on his own, taking a seat next to her, moving his hand from her arm to take her small hand into his own as he covered them both with the other. Once again, he ventured a look over at Elsie who had now let her head bow, staring down towards the handle she had just used to firmly secure the door.

Charles knew that her heart was breaking… for Anna, for John… for their family. Surely she was fighting back tears that she must not let Anna see. She would be strong, as she had always been, for all of them. The last thing he could ever expect was what would happen next.

"Why Anna? Why would you do such a thing," Elsie blasted as she whirled around on her heel.

"Elsie," Charles hissed. He was in complete disbelief. What was this he was hearing? Rage? In Anna's most desperate moment of need? This was most certainly out of character; he couldn't help but wonder where all of this was coming from.

Anna, previously lost in her own reverie, immediately snapped to attention in the light of Elsie's angry tongue. The one person in this house that she felt with certainty would understand just forsook any support she had faith that she would receive. In the moment, it became impossible to think, only to feel.

"Oh, I don't know Mrs. CARSON. Maybe you should tell me," Anna sassed back out of full blown hurt.

"Anna," Charles gasped. What was happening in this room? Charles never did understand why women always had a keen ability and overwhelming need to battle with each other, especially those they loved. He had seen it countless times over the years, extending far down the branches of the Crawley family tree. Having to referee it for himself was a thankfully unknown responsibility. That was, until now.

"I… I'm…" Anna began, her voice strained and clouded with bubbling emotion. She could not believe what she had just allowed to leave her lips. She had always held the utmost respect for Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson and had never spoken out of turn to either of them. Guilt and embarrassment were beginning to settle on top of the grief and disappointment.

Charles was at a loss. He wanted to confront Elsie, to make her reveal the origins of such a fierce reaction, but he could not bear to leave Anna's side. He found himself willing her to cry, to release the emotions as he had countlessly done with Elsie over the years. Though he had trained himself to be reticent in his own expressions, he was surprisingly, and reluctantly, well equipped to deal with those of others. It was the unexpected explosions of suppressed emotion that he took issue with.

Like what was clearly happening with Elsie at this very moment.

He patted Anna's hand gently, giving her a nod with nothing but kindness in his eyes. He was determined not to reprimand her. It seemed all but cruel and unnecessary in light of the situation at hand.

"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone," Anna murmured as she started to rise. Charles regarded the tears welling up in her eyes as he gave her hand a slight squeeze, standing by her side. "Are you sure that is wise," he asked her gently. She gave him her familiar little nod, stirring the strong paternal feelings in his heart. "Is that what you truly want," he whispered to her, chancing a glance over at Elsie.

Elsie had crossed over to her desk, refusing to look at either of them. She stood firm, arms crossed over her chest, staring into the corner. Her features were set, securing her choice of silence and a deep chasm of distance.

He watched as Anna's eyes darted over to Elsie and back just as quickly. There was nothing she wanted less in this world at that moment than to be alone; the only person she wanted to be with, the one she had hoped would comfort and help her through this time, if it were to happen, had just unforeseeably withdrawn her support in quite an unquestionable fashion.

"Yes, Mr. Carson. It is."

**A/N 2.0: This was painful. (Please don't hate me!)**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N There's always a reason behind everything…**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 29

Charles had reluctantly let Anna go, watching her slowly ascend the stairs, struck down by the slight sniffle she tried so desperately to hide. The girl had had to bear so much already; he didn't know how she would handle this new complication on her own. She most rightly should not have to. He was still processing the fact that she had managed to marry Mr. Bates without any of them finding out. As he began to contemplate the timeline of events, he remembered that he had left Elsie fuming in her sitting room.

He placed his hand upon the doorknob, giving it a turn yet half expecting it to be locked. It began to yield; he only let it open a sliver, sticking his head into the space. "May I come in, or am I at risk for losing my head," he ventured tentatively.

Elsie refused to answer him. She did not move a muscle, choosing to keep her stoic stance, seemingly forming quite a fond relationship with the wall. Charles entered the room, gently closing the door behind him and turning the lock. He slowly made his way over to Elsie, wrapping his arms snugly around her waist.

"Are you going to tell me what in Heaven's name is going on with you, or am I going to have to guess," he whispered into her ear, tightening his hold on her. Telling her he wasn't going anywhere was one thing, showing her was quite another.

Elsie batted his hands at their first landing. When Charles tightened his hold, she allowed herself to relent, sinking back against his chest. She tilted her head back a bit, letting it slowly loll back and forth.

"Oh Charles," she sighed. "What have I done?"

He bent down slightly to kiss her temple and slowly turn her around in his arms. He sank into the chair behind her desk, pulling her down onto his lap. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, allowing herself a moment of comfort.

"That was quite the display," he started. "Now I know why his Lordship's hand rarely leaves his forehead," he said with a twinge of laughter. "Honestly, I would be more upset with you if I didn't know you were hiding something… or burying it in there," he whispered, letting his hand linger over her heart. As she raised her head to give him the eye, he moved his hand to her back, sweeping it over her in long strokes. "Come now, out with it."

At times like these, the man knew her better than she felt she knew herself. It was frustrating and heartening all at once.

"How could I have provided such a poor example?"

"Now what are you on about," he said, lifting her chin with his free hand, allowing his thumb to brush over her lips. Her features were etched with disappointment and sorrow. It broke his heart to see her so stricken yet still holding fast.

"You heard her, Charles," she said with renewed vigor as she released herself from his comfort, beginning to pace the floor. "Where do you ever think she got the idea that secretly marrying was the proper thing to do?"

Her words sank straight into him, everything becoming clear in an instant. Elsie believed it was all their fault. Perhaps she was right.

No. This would not do. As much as he indulged Elsie, knowing that she continued to see Anna as a child, the fact was that Anna was now a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making her own decisions. He would have to approach her with this carefully.

"Anna and Mr. Bates would have been married soon enough. That decision was made quite a long time ago, love. But that's not truly what is bothering you, is it?"

Elsie turned towards Charles revealing the cracks that were starting to extend through her ever building walls. She was starting to break. Thankfully, he thought to himself.

"But why didn't she tell me?"

Charles rose from the chair, crossing over to her in two strides and taking her into his arms. "Go on," he said softly into her hair, resuming his duty of stroking her back, hoping that it would help everything tumble out.

Her tears began to flow, quietly at first then coming at such a pace that she could hardly breathe. Anna was not her daughter; she never was and she never would be. It was an absurd fantasy that she certainly knew better than to indulge in. Wishing often led to disappointment; she learned that at an early age, but found she could not keep herself from it when things with Charles began to fall into place. Life was evolving into a dream, a rather imperfect, full of obstacles type of dream, but a dream nonetheless. Within the dream came the nightmares, first with William's death, then with the rift with Charles. Things were just starting to look cheerful again when the cruel hand of fate decided to drop down again, taking Mr. Bates and delivering news that Elsie had all been forgotten in Anna's life.

It was all too much to bear.

Charles knew that Elsie would, and most likely already did, regret her immediate reaction towards Anna. He feared that if it weren't rectified soon that things would irreparably change for them, all of them, forever. He had nearly lost Elsie by way of his own stubborn reluctance to work through the grief he had put her through. He could not bear a repeat performance, especially when it came to his girls.

Though he had just resolved that he would stop referring to Anna as a child, he knew what he had to say to Elsie.

"I do believe that a certain girl needs, and deserves, a mother right about now."

Elsie could barely manage the words. "You know that I'm nothing of the sort."

Charles loosened his grip on Elsie, gently pushing her away from him. He lifted his hands to her face, softly stroking the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Now Elsie Carson, I'll HEAR nothing of the sort."

"It was all a silly fantasy. It always has been. It's been made quite clear that it has been an unrequited sentiment."

His next words would either earn him a sound slap or more tears. Nevertheless, they needed to be spoken. Some things were worth the risk.

"Come here," he said as the led her over to the settee, sitting her down with him and taking her hand into his own, just as he had with Anna. "Now, I must ask you to hear me out. Please don't hurt me. I'm still an ill man, I'll have you know." This earned him a pursed glare. She was holding back a smile… a good sign.

"Do you think… that perhaps… and again, I don't mean this to hurt you, but… do you think that perhaps you might be acting a bit… selfish… love?" He hesitated throughout, second guessing the path of this discourse at every bend, but knowing that it had to be undertaken. "Please don't hurt me."

Elsie looked up at him with a mixture of anger, hurt and disbelief. She could not believe he was disregarding her feelings in such a fashion. She had always worked so hard to repress them, from everyone, and now that she had let them out, she found herself immediately regretting it.

This was turning into trouble, he noted, knowing that he had to steer it back around and quickly to make his point. He refused to let go of her hand even as she tried to yank it away. "I only mean that Anna just lost her husband. Maybe lost is not the appropriate word… at least I hope it is not. But Elsie, even if it was our situation that gave her the idea to marry, do you not think that it proves your influence on her. Perhaps she holds you, us, in such high regard that she felt everything would turn out alright. It hasn't been easy for us, that is certainly undeniable, but she has bared witness to all of it. If we could persevere through all that we have, don't you think she may have taken strength in that?" He began to lovingly make circles on the back of her hand. "Do you know what I think? I honestly believe she was fully aware of what they were about to face in the light of that… that… woman's death and thought that if she were to marry Mr. Bates, that she would draw strength from that commitment, no matter what might come. I think that's mighty brave, don't you?"

"But that still doesn't explain why she felt that she couldn't come to me."

Charles sighed. This was hurting her more than he ever could have expected. He had to find a way to get her to go to Anna, to make things right. He was suddenly struck by his earlier contemplation of the timeline of events.

"Elsie" he exclaimed causing her to jump to attention and give him a questioning eye. "Where have you been the past week?"

Elsie rolled her eyes. Honestly, sometimes the man was maddening for no reason whatsoever.

"Here. As I always am. As I have been for the past innumerable years."

Honestly, sometimes the woman was too cheeky for her own good. It was no wonder she couldn't stand the trait in anyone else.

"No, Elsie. What have you been doing differently over the past week?"

Elsie looked down, deep thought clearly marking her features. What had been different? Things had certainly been busy, what with running the household by herself and all.

"Oh my God," she said, realization slamming into her. "The Flu! Charles, do you think…"

"I think you've found your answer, my dear. Now the only question is what are you going to do about it?"


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N This was insanely difficult to write! I'm not sure that I'm on the right path here... perhaps I'm too free with the comfort... but that's what fanfic is for, right? Elsie's still a bit reluctant to relent to her feelings, but Anna needs as much support as she can get. What's a (pretend) mother to do?**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 30

Anna had returned to her room, knowing that it was the one place in the house where she would be undisturbed. Ever since Ethel's departure she had the fortunate luck of having it all to herself, though to Anna it often felt more lonely than peaceful, especially when left with her own thoughts. Vera's passing had been both a blessing and a curse, the ultimate double-edged sword. It left Anna and Mr. Bates with an open path to happiness but with the unsettling feeling of veiled traps lying all along the way.

Evidence was mounting and there was not one thing she could do about it. Mr. Bates hadn't helped matters by holding back information from the police. Anna had a sixth sense that it would ultimately be his undoing, but knew enough that he would not talk even after she pleaded with him to cooperate with the authorities. His refusal to defend his actions in so many circumstances over the years was truly maddening.

Anna lowered herself onto her small bed, taking a moment to stare at her gloved hands. She knew that she would have to remove them eventually, but didn't feel that she had the strength in that moment. If she were to uncover her hands, she would see the only physical symbol she had of their marriage. She wished to marry him in order to officially bind their union in the eyes of the law but also to give herself something to draw strength from if he were to be taken.

Now that he had been unmercifully hauled off to prison, she felt anything but strong. If only she had someone to talk to, someone to provide even the smallest bit of comfort. Surprisingly, Mr. Carson seemed quite willing, but it just didn't feel right. The only person she wanted by her side in this moment couldn't even bear to look at her. If only…

But what did mum always say? "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."

As she furiously wrung her hands together, fingers burning under the friction of the rubbing cloth, she barely registered the small knock which fell upon her door.

Normally she would be shocked that Mr. Carson would make his way into the female side of the servants' quarters, but with the madness of the flu and everything else that seemed to be befalling the house as of late, it wouldn't be out of the question.

"I'm alright Mr. Carson. Truly. I just need…" she called out in the direction of the slowly opening door without lifting her head.

An unusually small voice with a very familiar lilt filtered through the small crack in the door. "May I come in?"

"Mrs. Hughes?" Anna was more than a bit surprised. Less than ten minutes ago, her relied upon champion had quite literally turned her back on her. What could have changed so quickly that would cause her to come inquire after her? "Did Mr. Carson send you?"

Elsie didn't know where to begin. She was extremely disappointed in the way she had handled the situation but was less than well-practiced in the art of apologizing. In fact, half of the problems she and Charles had experienced in their marriage could be directly attributed to their mutually shared trait of stubbornness and refusal to be proven wrong in any given situation.

If any relationship was worth salvaging, it was her unacknowledged one with Anna.

"No," Elsie began softly as she crossed over to the chair, pulling it up closer to the bed and fixing it to face Anna. "I came of my own accord."

Anna let her head rise just enough to watch Elsie, noting how irregular her movements were. Her approach was halting and apprehensive, almost as if she expected Anna to dart away like a wounded animal, unsure and untrusting of anyone who were to come near it. If Anna were to be completely honest, she did feel a bit like that, but Elsie was the only person she had wanted and she wouldn't deny herself that even in light of what had just occurred downstairs.

Elsie sat slowly, carefully gauging Anna's reaction to her every movement. The girl had no reason to trust her or let her in, certainly not after the tongue lashing she had just doled out to her mere minutes before. The fact remained that there were no suitable words.

So, she did what any good mother would do. Very slowly, she reached a hand out to Anna's own two, still caught up in unrelenting wringing, covering them wordlessly. If she couldn't tell her, she would simply have to show her.

Anna let her head drop again; Elsie knew it was to hide her tears. Charles always did seem to enjoy remarking on just how alike they were. Elsie had never been provided a clearer reflection of it as she did in that moment. Knowing her own unspoken emotional needs as well as Anna's own keen ability to provide comfort but never ask for it herself, Elsie moved to sit beside her on the bed, wrapping her free arm around Anna's waist. She would not press her, she would simply be there.

Anna began to sob, silently at first; when Elsie began to slowly stroke her back, she finally let go. Her little body shook violently with emotion, and it took everything Elsie had not to join her. She realized that it would never get easier watching her little girl's heart break over and over again, no matter how much she herself cared for Mr. Bates.

How many years had Charles told her that he wished she would just let go and let herself care for Anna? She rationalized all of her built up walls, knowing that they were the only safeguard from hurt and disappointment, but refusing to acknowledge that she was keeping out all of the good that could come from allowing herself to love and be loved in return. Enough was enough.

Elsie rose up and was out Anna's bedroom door in a shot. Anna was heartbroken. She could only assume that Elsie had once again left her, withdrawing her support, though in this moment it had seemed like they had somehow wandered onto the right path. Once again feeling alone and abandoned, Anna curled herself into the smallest ball she could upon the bed, scrunching up the quilt, clutching it to her face and using it to cover her sobs.

Elsie crashed through another bedroom door and began rifling through the dresser drawers. What would suffice? What would bring her girl the slightest bit of comfort? She couldn't be sure of anything in the situation but grabbed the bit of cloth and sprinted back towards Anna's room.

She threw open Anna's bedroom door in a flash, slamming it closed behind her in her rush fully realizing that privacy was paramount for both of them. The sight of Anna curled up so tightly on the bed, making her appear ever so much smaller than her already tiny frame, sent a shooting pain through Elsie's chest. In that very moment, Anna was a little girl drowning in a sea of sadness. Elsie would be damned if she wouldn't try her hardest to pull her to some semblance of safe shore.

She climbed up onto the small bed, pulling Anna backwards into her arms. She managed to maneuver them both back up to sit against the headboard, wrapping her arms soundly around Anna's middle as the girl doubled over letting the tears flow freely. Elsie struggled to pull Anna's hands out and away from her body in an effort to remove her gloves. As much as it might sting at first, Elsie knew better than anyone that Anna needed to see her ring. She needed to draw strength from her choices, not be beleaguered by second guessing them. Anna fought her the whole time, pulling her hands back towards her body as Elsie soothed with soft hushes and her tight embrace. As each glove slid off of her hands, Anna's body began to calm as she sank into Elsie.

The tears refused to stop.

Elsie prayed that she was doing the right thing. She, herself, was not good at revealing her emotions; it had taken Charles years of kindness, friendship and lots of coaxing to get her to let go. Anna had always seemed a bit freer in her expressions, but the girl took pride in her professional nature and never wanted to be a burden to anyone. Of this, Elsie was well aware.

It spoke volumes that she was letting Elsie hold her. Though it meant everything to Elsie, she could not fathom how it was possible for her heart to swell and fracture all at the same time. She was once again reminded of how it truly felt to be a mother.

The cloth Elsie had struggled to retrieve moments ago sat bundled up behind her on the bed. She had all but forgotten it in the effort to release Anna from her pain. As she continued to run her left hand over Anna's own, she reached behind her with the other, extracting the soft fabric and smoothing it out onto the bed.

"Please let me be doing the right thing," she thought to herself and sent up to the heavens.

She held onto Anna's left hand tightly with her own, turning it over and opening it ever so carefully. Elsie leaned her head forward, gently resting her chin on Anna's right shoulder as she used her right hand to bring the cloth forward and into Anna's open palm. Anna ran her fingers over the pattern, bringing both hands to close upon the soft fabric, lifting it to her face.

"I'll help you put it on if you like," she whispered into Anna's hair as she ghosted a brief kiss upon her cheek.

Anna nodded slowly, extracting herself from Elsie's embrace and moving herself to the edge of the bed. Elsie began to undo the fastenings first on Anna's dress followed by her corset, freeing her from the constrictions and visual reminders of the day. She couldn't help but flash back to the day that William died, remembering how she could not get out of her dress fast enough, not wanting to wear it for quite some time after.

When all that remained was Anna's shift, Elsie lovingly draped the familiar garment over Anna's head. She drew it down ever so slowly, letting Anna revel in the softness, the smell, the comfort. In her position, seated behind Anna, Elsie took a moment to look over her charge, her own heart breaking at the sight of her petite frame swallowed up in Mr. Bates' pajama top.

Anna crawled back onto the bed and into Elsie's embrace. "Mrs. Hughes, I'm sorry. So sor…" Anna started as she laid her head on Elsie's chest.

"Hush now, dear girl. You have nothing to be sorry about," Elsie murmured into Anna's hair as she let the girl burrow into her. "Love is the greatest thing we can ever hope to have in this world." She began to feel guilty as she reflected on all the things she had let get in the way of her love… for Charles… for Anna. "So many things can get in the way, but if we always remember to let ourselves love… and let ourselves be loved… the rest will fall into place."

"Are you very upset with me, Mrs. Hughes," Anna choked out, her throat still tight with unshed tears. Elsie knew that she was still fighting, even after she had allowed herself to relent earlier.

"How could I be upset with you, Anna? For doing exactly what Charles and I did all those years ago. Doesn't quite seem fair now, does it?"

Anna let out a small burst of laughter. When emotions run high, they tend to manifest themselves in all sorts of fashion. Elsie could only smile and give the girl a small squeeze.

"I do feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation," Elsie started, slightly afraid to go on. Could she really let Anna know the depth of her feelings? Would that not be unforgivably crossing the line? Regardless of the professional ramifications, it would entail Elsie breaking down her walls in the most destructive of ways, never to be rebuilt in the same protective fashion in which they stood now. It would be the ultimate risk.

She was willing to take it, for Anna.

"You see. Since Mr. Carson and I did not find each other until much later in life… too late to actually have a family of our own… that is… you see…" Elsie stopped suddenly. She tilted her head to gaze down upon the girl lying in her arms, watching her back expand and contract rhythmically, registering the new weight shift she felt upon her chest.

Anna had fallen fast asleep.


	31. Chapter 31

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 31

Dinner had come and gone with no sign of Elsie or Anna. The mood around the table was rightfully somber, everyone's mind resting somewhere with Mr. Bates, either sympathizing with the valet or, in Thomas's case, plotting his next move.

Charles had less than a hearty appetite himself, his thoughts lying upstairs with his ever emotionally guarded wife and their brokenhearted girl. A small part of him felt guilty for wishing that some good could come from the situation; truth be told, he spent the greater part of the evening sending his fondest hopes out into the ether that this unfortunate incident would be just the thing to break Elsie.

It wasn't that he wished harm or ill upon his beloved. Far from it. He simply knew that her walls needed to collapse before anyone would be welcomed in and, more importantly, before she could let herself be loved. Bits had crumbled here and there over the years but had been rebuilt just the same and just as easily. Years had given him an understanding of her reasoning but certainly did not make it any easier to take, especially on the occasions when he was the one being shut out.

Charles remained at the table alone after granting each servant's request to be excused. He sat staring off towards the ever silent piano, William's piano, when he felt something hard gently bump into his arm.

"I thought you might like to take them a tray." Mrs. Patmore looked down upon him with saddened yet kind features. "Or I could have Daisy run it up if you'd rather."

"No, Mrs. Patmore. I think I'd rather like to take it myself, but I thank you all the same," Charles replied slowly rising to his feet. He looked over the tray, fixed with two plates of food that would prove easy on the stomach. For as much as she fought with Elsie, Beryl Patmore was a very kind woman and certainly knew how to take care of her own.

"She'll be alright… won't she," Mrs. Patmore asked hesitantly, always cheered by Anna's resiliency but reminded of how much the brave, kind girl had already been through in her short life. "I hope so, Mrs. Patmore. I certainly do hope so," Charles replied softly. He knew that she had been speaking in regards to Anna, but he couldn't help but consider both his girls in the sentiment.

* * *

><p>Charles carefully climbed the stairs, taking care not to spill the small container of milk or upset the modest teapot spilling steam from its seams. He knew for certain that Elsie would barely be able to touch any of the food, not one holding the ability to eat when upset. If Anna were as similar as he believed her to be, he would have to be mindful to sneak the uneaten food back down to the bin at a time when it would be unseen, lest Mrs. Patmore be unintentionally offended.<p>

His knuckles grazed Anna's bedroom door in a soft knock, not wanting to disturb what could be happening inside. Upon receiving no answer, he decided that either his girls were sobbing it out or that they had indeed killed each other. He truly didn't know which result he thought worse. Hesitating for a moment, he decided that his own curiosity would do him in; he slowly turned the knob, opening the door bit by bit.

What he saw before him warmed the cockles of his heart, enveloping him with the strong feeling that everything would be alright. Elsie was sat up against the headboard of one of the small, single beds, Anna snugly nestled in her arms. Elsie's cheek was resting on Anna's head, peace smoothing her features.

It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen.

Though he wanted nothing more than to let them be, affording Elsie the chance to fully savour the moment, he couldn't help but worry about the state she would be in upon awakening. Being static in that position with Anna's weight on her, no matter how slight, would surely cause her hours of pain. She would never complain, but if he had the power to save her the trouble, he most certainly would.

Charles rested the tray on the empty bed and lifted the simple wooden chair to position it next to the headboard. He sat gingerly, taking a minute to watch them once more before daring to disturb the heartening scene before him. He cautiously reached out his hand, lightly sweeping his knuckles over Elsie's cheek.

"Charles," Elsie murmured as her eyes began to flutter open. She slowly lifted her cheek from Anna's head, turning to search him out, knowing her husband could be the only one responsible for such tender touch. Charles leaned closer, brushing his lips softly across her cheek. Having pulled the chair right up alongside the bed, he was in the perfect position to reach over and drape an arm across Elsie's shoulders.

Feeling Charles's arm wrap around her shoulders and casting her eyes down upon a sleeping Anna curled up in her arms, Elsie was overwhelmed. She had spent so many years mourning the family she would never have, failing to embrace the one that had always been right under her nose. How many years had been wasted with this foolishness?

Charles knew the wheels were furiously turning in Elsie's head. That rarely leant itself to anything good or productive unless solving a particular problem were involved. Seeing how it would prove near impossible to figure out how to bring Mr. Bates home to Anna in the next few hours, he could only deduce that she was ruminating on an irreversible past.

"I doubt that I need to ask if it went well then," he laughed into her hair. "Oh Charles," she sighed as she let her head rest against his shoulder. "I never realized how painful it can be."

"How painful what can be, love," he asked softly, using a hand to softly stroke her cheek, hoping to coax out the feelings that she so often repressed.

"Being a mother," she replied. "It is so easy to think only of the good things, the pride, the wonder, the sharing… the happiness. But what happens when the world falls apart?" Her voice was becoming quieter. "What happens when you can't fix it?"

Charles took her face into her hands, kissing her on the forehead and then resting it upon his own. "You do just what you have. You provide comfort. You listen. You hold." He used his arm to gesture over the still sleeping Anna in an effort to make her understand that she was doing everything correctly. She was doing everything she could and that it most certainly was enough. "You simply be there."

"But what now," Elsie asked.

"We wait and see," Charles replied.

Anna began to stir in Elsie's arms. Ignoring the age of the "child" she was now holding she simply went with her instincts. Elsie soothed with slight shushing sounds and by smoothing hands over her back. She looked over at Charles with eyes filled to the brim with heartbreak.

"He has most unjustly been accused. I have to believe that the courts will not stop short of declaring fair judgment." He patted her arm gently. "He will be back with us before we know it."

"But what if…"

"Hush now," he whispered as he rested his lips against her hair. "No use worrying about the things we have absolutely no control over. Let us spend our time tending to what is right in front of us."

Elsie sighed, once again allowing herself to lean into Charles. "Speaking of," he continued, "I only woke you because I couldn't bear to think of what tomorrow would bring if I left you sleeping in that dreadful position."

"Oh Charles, I'm fine. I'll be fine," Elsie started. "Besides, I don't have the heart to leave her now."

"I'm not daft enough to suggest you leave her after you've made this much progress," he chuckled, giving her a little squeeze.

"I supposed you've finally got what you've wanted now, haven't you," she said, her tone a little more sad than he had hoped given the situation.

"I've only ever wanted the best for you, my love. I truly believe that this is it, that this has always been it. I am just happy that you are now realizing it too." He let his arm drop lower, snaking it around her waist and reaching the other over to rest at her side. "Taking into account the worst of what could be, the best remains far greater. Love is always worth it, my dear. You just have to have the courage to let it in."

Elsie turned her head to look at Charles, risking revealing the happy tears that begged at her eyes. "I love you," she managed, leaning in to brush her lips tenderly against his. He returned the kiss, only breaking it to press one gently to her nose, causing her to utter a slight giggle. She secretly loved it when he was playful, almost boy-like in his sweetness.

His next move would cause the tears to make their way down her cheeks.

Charles cautiously leaned over Elsie, bringing his head down slowly upon Anna's, ghosting a kiss over the little blonde head that had always brought them so much joy. Just as Elsie had refused to allow Anna to silently suffer alone ever again, Charles was silently vowing to remain by their sides in the days to come. They were in this together.

They were a family.

"Let's get you two properly settled," he said as he brushed the tears from Elsie's cheeks. Charles grasped Elsie's shoulders and began to move her ever so slightly in a grand effort not to wake Anna. He knew how great a comfort sleep could be when caught up in heartbreak. He would not be the one to tear her from relief and thrust her back into cold reality, no matter if they were there to support her through it.

Elsie moved as smoothly as she could, realizing that she would most certainly need Charles's help in order not to wake Anna. He moved a hand down to grasp her bottom. Before she could realize that he was doing it to help ease the process, she had hissed a very direct, "Cheeky!" in his direction. He could not help the laughter that came out as he tried to explain his motives, causing her to follow suit.

It would be a miracle if Anna did not wake at this point.

Thank heavens she proved a very sound sleeper.

Charles had managed to move Elsie all the way down onto the bed, leaving her wrapped soundly around Anna's back. He went over to the second bed, retrieving its pillow and maneuvering it into place beside its twin, allowing both girls to have a place to rest their heads. He sat gently on the sliver of bed remaining behind Elsie's back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Mrs. Patmore prepared a tray for the both of you. I had a feeling you wouldn't be up to eating and if Anna's anything like you… well, it is there, but I'm afraid it will be cold by now. The tea may still be a bit warm. Would you care for any now?"

She couldn't help but think how ridiculous that sounded now that she was lying fully prostrate on the bed, but it warmed her heart to know how thoughtful he was being. "Not right now, dear, but I thank you all the same."

"I will leave you then," he rumbled as quietly as he could, "regretfully, mind you."

Elsie turned her head to look up at him. "Thank you," she said wistfully, hoping that he would know how much it meant to her that he suggested she take this huge step with Anna.

"For what," he asked gently.

"For leading me here, for one," she said, motioning for him to lean down for a kiss. "And for waiting so patiently for me, for another," she whispered, hoping for a second.

"I would wait for you until the end of my days," he murmured upon her lips, kissing her soundly, allowing himself to linger for a moment before pulling away to drift another across her cheek. "Now, you take care of our girl, and I'll see you in the morning."

"I love you Charles Carson."

"And I love you Elsie Carson. Forever and always."

And with that, Charles crossed the floor, extinguished the lamp, and indulged in one more brief moment of watching his girls before soundlessly shutting the door, sending Elsie and Anna off into a dreamless sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N I apologize for the ridiculous wait on this chapter. Honestly, I found myself at quite a standstill. Your kind words of encouragement, as well as crazy life circumstances, are what have spurred me to go on. I love you all! I hope you enjoy this little post-arrest interaction. More *secretive* happiness is on the horizon! (Stupid angsty speedbumps!) **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 32

Elsie struggled to stifle her yawns all throughout the servants' breakfast. Anna's sleep was fitful, at best, waking her every few hours but affording her the chance to soothe the nightmares away as only a mother could. She had left her in bed, smoothing her hair and telling her not to give a thought to coming down until she was good and ready.

It came as quite a shock then as Anna entered the servants' hall, dressed in full uniform, and took her usual seat, leaving John's empty as if she had expected him to walk through the doorway at any moment. This was their routine. She didn't have the heart to break it.

Charles choked on his tea a bit and Elsie, try as she might, couldn't keep the sympathy out of her eyes. Anna looked just as she did every morning, a bit more weary and red around the eyes perhaps, but not a pin or hair out of place. "What's for breakfast then," she asked steadily as those gathered round the table regarded her with a fine mixture of shock, compassion and sadness.

Elsie felt as if her chest were collapsing in upon itself. In other circumstances, she would be cheered that Anna would be up and about, acting as if nothing had ever happened, but that was just it. It was too soon. They had been through this before when John had had to leave with Vera. As much as Elsie wanted to order Anna back to bed, to give herself some time to heal, she knew better than to challenge the strong-willed girl's choices.

Unfortunately Charles did not.

"Anna. May I speak to you privately," he asked as he suddenly stood at the head of the table.

"In all fairness Charles, she IS under my juris…," Elsie started but was not given the chance to finish.

"And you, Mrs. Hughes," Charles all but barked, sending the servants into a nervous tizzy of sly looks and low murmurings. Thankfully the first of the bells began to ring, breaking into the scene. "Breakfast is over," Charles stated tersely as he led the march to his pantry.

Charles entered the room, followed closely by a stoic Anna and a furious Elsie. What was he doing? Where was the kind, fatherly figure who had appeared with a tray in Anna's room just hours earlier? Elsie took great care not to slam the door, only in an effort to quiet any further gossiping by the staff.

"And just what was all THAT about," she hissed once the door was closed.

"I apologize," Charles started as he offered Anna a seat. She refused to take it, looking straight into the wall, her features fixed but fragile. Elsie knew that she was fighting with every ounce of strength she had left.

"I hardly find this necessary," Elsie started forcefully as she crossed her arms and gave Charles a pointed glare.

"Elsie! Let me finish," Charles was becoming quite perturbed at being interrupted. Here he was, trying to do the right thing and Elsie wouldn't even let him get a word in edgewise.

"Anna," he said gently as he placed a hesitant hand upon her arm. "I'm not sure it is the wisest decision for you to return to work so soon."

"Worried that I'll cause a stir, Mr. Carson," she asked flatly. "I cannot help what others choose to say or do. I can only do my own work, which I will do, very well, thank you," she continued with a quiet strength, her shaky voice betraying her effort to keep composure. "I thank you for your concern and kindness, but I will be continuing on as usual."

"But Anna," Elsie sighed taking her other arm.

Anna turned her head to face Elsie full on. "Please don't take this away from me Mrs. Carson. It's all I have now."

Elsie looked over at Charles with pleading eyes. She knew that his reluctance to have Anna return to her duties was born from care and concern, despite what Anna had said about appearances. She hoped that he would have the courage to let his own countenance crumble a little and let her know that. She wasn't to be disappointed.

"Are you quite sure," he asked her quietly, stepping ever so slightly closer. "I remember…" he started and stopped almost as quickly, knowing better than to bring up past heartache when such a fresh one had just been opened. "I do not doubt your abilities at all. I just wish to be sure that you will take the time to care for yourself."

Elsie mouthed the words, "Thank you," to Charles over Anna's head.

Anna gently twisted herself out of their hold. "I will be fine. I am fine, but I thank you all the same," she said levelly as she turned and walked to the door, never making eye contact with either of them.

"Anna," Charles spoke softly, causing her angry little steps to halt on the doorstep. "I hope that you know that your work is not all you have left at Downton."

Anna froze in the doorway for just a moment, letting his words register. Charles took Elsie's hand as they stood in the middle of his pantry watching their girl continue her determined march into the hallway, eyes dry and head held high.


	33. Chapter 33

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 33

The wooden door creaked on its hinges as gentle hands eased it open bit by bit. The figure on the other side refused to stir, distracted by whatever view lie just beyond the cloudy glass. The door echoed its strain once more as the latch clicked shut and only footsteps remained.

"I thought I might find you in here," she ventured softly.

"It is simply not right," he rumbled.

Elsie reached out to take Charles's hand. He stood eerily still, his eyes never leaving the small window. Elsie made her way in front of him, rising up on her toes a bit to see if the scene outside the pane reflected her imaginings.

Outside, in the courtyard where she had always shared stolen moments with Mr. Bates, was Anna. How many times had they watched her out there, pain searing through her sensitive heart, tears silently streaming down her cheeks? Only this time, it was different. There she was, sat on a crate, eyes dry as a bone but as vacant and haunted as one who had passed over and only remained as a memory.

It was a truly frightening sight.

"What now," Charles asked, his voice unexpectedly catching on the words. He had trained himself for so long not to betray his emotions, yet when with Elsie, they always managed to win out just as her own did with him. Perhaps that was why, not matter what came to pass, they always managed to find their way back to each other.

"As much as it pains me to say it, we have to leave her be," Elsie sighed sinking back onto Charles's chest. "She will come to us, if she feels the need, in her own due time."

"So we are supposed to just leave her to suffer alone?"

"You have told her, in your way, that we are here. I believe she knows that to be true."

"And we let her go about things as if nothing has happened?"

"We must. Those are her wishes. Lord knows she needs as much distraction as we can afford to provide now. Let us not deny her that. Please, Charles. If you are concerned that her work will not be up to standard –"

Charles felt an ache in his chest at Elsie's words. "Elsie. Do you honestly believe that I am so blinded by standards that I cannot spare an ounce of feeling –"

Elsie silenced Charles's rumination on perceived insult with a gentle, yet persistent, kiss.

"I know you, Charles Carson, and that is not who you are. It may be who you present yourself to be, but not everyone is lucky enough to see the truth.

"You do realize that you are talking about the man who betrayed his wife in the name of the honour of this house," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret.

"I would hope that we have moved past that by now. I know I have."

"Have you," Charles asked seriously. "I don't know that I can ever forgive myself for such a grievous misstep."

"Well then, it is a good thing that you have a very forgiving Missus," Elsie replied as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "So enough of that, please."

Charles leaned down to give her a tender kiss. Elsie tightened her hold around his middle, deepening what had been, up until then, a fairly chaste display. It had been months since they had shown each other any modicum of passion. Elsie did not know if it was the tenderness with which he was treating Anna or the thought of ever unjustly losing him as Anna had Mr. Bates or the simple fact that she missed him, fully missed him, mind, body, and soul.

"This isn't right," he whispered against her lips.

"It's not like we have never done this before… in here no less…" Elsie answered between shared breaths.

"Not that," Charles mumbled.

"We certainly aren't going to change Mr. Bates' fate by making love," she retorted through small sighs.

Charles suddenly broke away from their kisses, but kept a tight hold on Elsie. "No my love, I don't believe we would," he said through a slight laugh. That was his Elsie, always using humour to diffuse the tough situations. "I would simply like to take the time to cherish the rediscovery of my wife," he started, dropping a kiss upon her forehead. "But only if Anna does not need you tonight."

"Oh Charles," she smiled as she reached up to brush his lips slightly with her own. "If I know that girl at all, it will be days, perhaps weeks, before she admits to needing anyone. I will be sure to let her know that I am available whenever she may need, but she will want to stand on her own for a while. She desires to prove herself. We need to pull away for a bit and give her room to breathe."

"Clever and beautiful," Charles said as he cupped her cheek, gently stroking his thumb across it. "However did I get so lucky?"

"Charmer," she shot back as she leaned into his hand, kissing the palm. "So I believe there is just one unanswered question, then."

"And what would that be, love?"

"Your room, or mine?"


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N Thank you all for your kind words and readership. They may not be mine, but they are ever so dear to me. I thought it was about time for a reunion. This is my second shot at a bit of M action, so I apologize if it reads as complete and utter rubbish. These two deserve so much more! **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 34

The day seemed to stretch on endlessly. Charles was on his third inspection of the wine inventory before he realized that he had already been through the process twice. He chuckled to himself as he shook his head.

He would never have imagined that he could find himself this nervous to be in the company of his wife.

The war, and its stresses, had brought about so much change. Change had always been Charles Carson's biggest adversary. Routine was familiar. Routine was safe. He often reminded himself of this, over and over until there was no other option to consider. But sometimes, in the quiet, he would be reminded that change could lead to extraordinary things.

Elsie Hughes had been his greatest confidant and ally for as long as he could remember her being present at Downton. Change had made her housekeeper, allowing for shared evenings, burgeoning confidences, and growing affection. Change had dropped Joe Burns back into her life, spurring Charles into the confession that would ultimately bring him the greatest joy of his life. Change had transformed Elsie Hughes into Elsie Carson and turned her into the mother she had always wanted to be, even when he had disapproved of her efforts towards Ethel. Change had stolen away their William, war taking him far too soon, and their bright-eyed Anna, losing her love to the injustice of what was first a prior commitment and later an unjust arrest and scandal. Change had brought illness and separation into their lives, and yet, they had always prevailed.

Change, though jarring and often cruel, was responsible for bringing them together, then and now.

* * *

><p>Elsie sighed as she sipped the lukewarm tea from her small cup. Would this day ever end? Anna had been scurrying about, this way and that, never halting her feet for any longer than a few seconds at a time. Any longer would have sent the poor lass's imaginings to any number of dark corners; this Elsie knew all too well. She followed closely, yet invisibly, watching the girl from afar, her heart consumed with silent prayers.<p>

Now all that was left was to sit and wait. Wait for Anna's impending breakdown, wait for Mrs. Patmore to break in bellowing about the store cupboard key, wait for Sarah O'Brien to start a fuss about one thing or another… wait for Charles to come and collect her for bed.

None of these would come to pass, leaving Elsie alone with her nerves. She had not been with Charles properly for months, emotions, pride, sickness and circumstance reluctantly separating them from one another. Tonight would bring them back to each other, in every way. She laughed a bit, chiding herself for acting like a silly schoolgirl anxiously awaiting her first kiss. She felt quite foolish but could not keep the smile from lighting her face.

* * *

><p>They did not meet that night for their usual glass of wine. Both had agreed to wait until the others had retired, a time far into the night, to reconvene in Elsie's room. The waiting proved torturous, but knowing the intended outcome soothed their souls.<p>

Elsie had gone up first, silently sneaking a peek into Anna's room on the way to her own. The girl was bound up in her quilt, clutching the pajamas of John's that Elsie had brought to her up against her face like a small child would a comforting blanket, deep within the clutches of sleep. "Thank heavens for small blessings," Elsie thought to herself as she quietly closed the door and made her way further down the hall.

As she opened the door to her bedroom, Elsie noticed a new addition to the familiar scene. A small bouquet of wildflowers, the same variety Charles had picked for her on the day of their wedding, was lying in the center of her bed. When she had reached out to lift them, her hand brushed against a small piece of parchment. Elsie took it into her hand and read:

_My Dearest Elsie,_

_Until we are to be parted by death, and ever after, I promise to love, cherish and keep you for as long as you will have me. _

_Yours Forever and Always,_

_Charles_

Charles had proven himself to be quite the romantic over the years but was never was one to be long-winded when it came to matters of the heart. This small, tangible offering of his love, one that Elsie could hold on to and treasure for years to come, truly meant the world. She felt the tears beckoning when the door meekly creaked on its hinges, clicking shut behind the entrant.

"Five years," he said softly, wrapping her in a gentle embrace from behind.

"And I wouldn't change a day," she replied, brushing the stray tear from her cheek before he could see.

Charles spun her around to face him. "You wouldn't," he asked incredulously. After all that they had experienced, the heartbreak, the turmoil, the betrayal. He found it hard to believe.

"We may not have been able to control the circumstances of the past few years," she began, "but we always managed to find our way. For that, we have to be the least bit grateful," she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "We are very lucky indeed."

Charles could not believe what he was hearing. Lucky? They had lost so much in so short a time; leave it to Elsie to uncover the bright side of things. In that moment, he most definitely felt lucky, very lucky, indeed.

And all at once, all distance that had previously existed had suddenly been closed. Their souls lie bare as their lips met in unspoken oaths and promises. All that mattered was the here and now, capturing this moment and opening the door to an unknown future.

Elsie began to unbutton Charles's waistcoat, only to find her hands stilled. "Please," he whispered. "I must do this now," he said as he began to lightly stroke the back of her neck, dipping his fingers below the neckline of her dress. "It has been far too long."

It had been far too long. It was becoming harder to remember the last time that Charles had undressed her. The last time they had made love was the night that William had passed; at that time, Charles had done quite a bit of damage to his hand in his emotion over protecting Anna, leaving Elsie to do much of the work herself. She did not mind in the slightest, caught up in the wanton need of the time, but now she felt Charles's need to provide, to honour and to cherish. Far be it from her to deny him of that.

His hands were slow and tender, unhooking fasteners one by one, replacing their former binds with liberating kisses. Taking great care to caress each inch of skin as it was divested of its coverings, he soon had Elsie standing before him in her simple shift. "Such beauty of which I am not worthy," he said as he ran his hands over her hair and began removing the pins.

Elsie felt her cheeks begin to flush as she contemplated giving him a right smack and an offhand remark for being so dear. But she was nothing if not wise to the ways of her husband. Sometimes, for the sake of the male ego, it was best to leave the humour outside the marital bed.

Perhaps after one, tiny comment…

"But I find that you are quite overdressed for the occasion, Mister Carson," she said slyly, sneaking her hand just high enough to undo his trousers. As said garment began to fall past his knees, Charles couldn't help but laugh. Lucky was an understatement. "Sneaky devil," he rumbled into her ear as he began to lavish attention upon the soft skin just under her jaw. "Always," she said through a sigh, unbuttoning her way down his finely pressed shirt, removing it swiftly and efficiently leaving him standing, shirtless, with his pants around his ankles.

They were most certainly a sight. She wanted nothing more than to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he was trying so awfully hard to make everything so special. It wasn't until he started pulling a face that she knew he was struggling to hold it in as badly as she was. They both dissolved into hushed laughter, joyful tears springing to their eyes.

"Would you have a look at us," he exhaled, dropping onto the bed and pulling her into his lap. "Like two nervous children on their wedding night!" Elsie tucked her head into the crook of his neck. "Except that we are far too cheeky to ever make it to the main event," she said through a snicker, kissing her way along his collarbone. "Speak for yourself, my dear," he laughed as he suddenly rolled her underneath of him on the mattress. Elsie's laughter kept rolling as Charles began to leisurely run a hand up her thigh but abruptly turned into a moan when his touch reached her center.

He began to slowly circle her with attentive caresses as the dampness of her undergarments betrayed her readiness for him. Her name was on his lips as he slid them down her legs, dropping them to the floor. He hurriedly removed his own trousers from their position around his feet and slipped out of his undershorts, leaving only Elsie's shift in the way.

As Charles was occupied removing the remainder of his clothing, Elsie reached over to the side table to obtain her wedding ring. As she began to place it on her finger, Charles reached out and snatched it from her grip. "I believe that is my job," he said as he slipped the ring onto her finger, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. "Oh Charles," she moaned as she caught a glint shining from his own ring finger. She brought his hand up to her cheek, turning it to kiss his palm.

Charles lovingly stroked his way down to the hem of Elsie's shift, lifting it over her head in one fell swoop. He gently placed her back down upon the mattress, lavishing attention down upon her breast, suckling at one whilst lovingly fondling the other. "Charles," she managed through contented sighs. "Please."

He rose above her, positioning himself at her entrance. He locked his eyes upon her own as he entered her slowly, finally realizing how it felt to be home again. They found their rhythm as if they had never once parted, taking all the time in the world to revel in both the joy and the pleasure. The tears came and went, small signs of their gratitude and happiness, and as they ascended the peak together, their release solidified the reunion of their souls.

Charles pulled Elsie to him, laying her across his chest and running his hand along her back in long, languid strokes. Elsie brushed her lips over his chest, running her slight fingers along his side and bringing them to rest upon his shoulder. They both dropped off into slumber, bound together by love and by vow, ready to face whatever may lie ahead.

Together.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N Sincere apologies! Life is crazy and full of surprises. My intent for this story was to go through Series 2, but now that we're into Series 3, we'll see where that may take us… if you think I should bother to continue, that is! (Still not through to the S2 Christmas special yet.) **

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 35

The whole of the estate was ensconced in slumber when all at once, a shrill scream shattered the silence.

In his bleary state of half consciousness, Charles started like a new father roused out of bed by a crying infant. "I'll see to it then," he whispered into Elsie's hair, his arms still wrapped tightly around her resting form.

Elsie's eyes suddenly shot open as she pinned her husband down onto the bed. "You most certainly will not! How in heaven's name would you explain coming out of my room at this time of night… in your pajamas no less!" She looked down at him and smiled. "But it's nice to know I haven't completely lost my ability to make you lose your head."

He laughed quietly and swatted her on the bottom. "Off to it then." He dropped a kiss onto her forehead as his voice quieted, becoming quite serious. "Do you suppose it is Anna?"

"Undoubtedly," Elsie sighed. "Poor girl. She pushes herself so hard during the day to forget, it's no wonder everything would fight itself out in the night. It was only a matter of time."

"Be off with you," he said gently, helping her to her feet. Elsie crossed over to the door, grabbing her dressing gown and tying it loosely around her. "Pray," she managed to shoot back as she opened the door just enough to maneuver herself out and into the hall.

Unsurprisingly, she wasn't the only one who had been roused from her bed. A very groggy Beryl and grousing Sarah were slowly wandering out into the hall when a little blonde head came hurtling out of a doorway just a bit further down.

"Anna," Elsie exclaimed, startled that it was clearly not the beleaguered head housemaid who was inadvertently causing this night's excitement.

"It's Daisy, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said as she rushed in the direction of the kitchen maid's door. Beryl's face became lined with concern as she closely followed behind, leaving Elsie and Sarah in her wake.

When they had gotten to Daisy's door, Anna was already on the bed with the young girl wrapped tightly in a comforting embrace. "Hush now," she said. "It can't be all that bad." Anna had always been the tender one in the house, the one everyone could rely on for support; despite all that was going on in her own life, all the strife and turmoil, here she sat, running a soothing hand along Daisy's back and just waiting patiently.

Elsie closed her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. They could all stand to take a few lessons from her darling girl.

Quite surprisingly, Beryl bustled over and sat on the bed, wordlessly taking one of Daisy's hands into her own. The cook had always been quite the force of nature, but behind her direct words lie a caring soul with the best of intentions.

Elsie crossed halfway into the room, not wishing to overwhelm the girl as Sarah remained in the doorway. Suddenly, Anna reached out and grabbed her hand. The behaviour was indeed out of the ordinary and would surely be seen as such. Did Anna feel as if she needed extra support? This certainly was an odd way to go about it. Elsie attempted to return a look of inquiry but failed as Anna was not looking at her face. No, she was looking lower. Elsie let her head droop just enough to see that in her haste to leave her room, she had forgotten something.

Elsie Carson had forgotten to remove her wedding band.

Thankfully Anna had covered her hand enough to hide it but not before a set of sleepy, teary eyes caught sight of it.

"That's pretty," Daisy slurred out quietly, almost as if she were still in a dreamlike state.

"What is, dear," Beryl inquired softly, squeezing the girl's hand a bit.

Anna moved quickly, carefully palming the ring off Elsie's finger and slipping it into her pocket.

"It looks a bit like mine," Daisy said, suddenly starting to sob again.

"What does," Beryl asked, slightly more straightforward.

"Mrs. Hughes's ring," she answered. "It looks like the one… the one… I got from… William."

Elsie forced a smile as she sat down upon the bed and placed her now unadorned hands over Daisy's. "That must have been quite the dream, dear girl," she started. "I could only wish to have such a lovely token." Elsie looked over at Anna with a glint of appreciation in her eye, something that Beryl easily picked up on but said nothing to indicate so.

The one they most feared, Sarah, in that dark, cold hour of night, couldn't be bothered. "I'm going back to bed," she sighed. "Get some sleep Daisy," she said quietly before slowly retreating to her room. William hadn't been a bad lad, and as fool as that girl may be, she wasn't half bad either.

"But… I saw…," Daisy said, her speech a muddled mixture of slumber and confusion.

"I think you've seen quite enough in that poor head of yours tonight," Anna said, running her hand up and down Daisy's back. "Now go back to sleep. The morn will come quick enough." She tucked Daisy back in, draping and securing her quilts just so.

Daisy's eyes closed readily, thankfully allowing the exhausted girl to drop back into a dreamless sleep. The women gathered themselves up and returned to the hall, Beryl leading the way. Once they were sure that she had gone to bed, Anna stuck her head out of her doorframe, finding Elsie's awaiting stare just outside of her own. Anna silently hustled down the hall and dropped the ring into Elsie's palm, quietly adding, "You really need to be more careful Mrs. Carson! Suppose Miss O'Brien were to find out!"

What they did not know was that one very suspicious cook had decided to leave her door open just enough to hear every word.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: Dearest readers... If you are still with me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know it has been eons since I've updated this story, and for that I am very sorry! At first, I wrote it off to making certain acquaintances. (It is much harder to write about characters you love so deeply after having spent some time with the wonderful people who play them. I won't even go into the feels...) A larger truth is that I have been struggling with confidence in my writing. I decided that this story, along with most of my writing was just not up to snuff, so to speak. I became deeply discouraged and though it killed me, could not bring myself to continue. Just when I was about to throw in the towel completely, I received some amazing Private Messages that urged me to continue. I guess this story does have an audience! I cannot thank you enough for giving me the courage to revisit my beloved downstairs family. Now, without further ado...**

Chapter 36

Elsie closed the door, taking care to muffle the click as best she could. Charles was just as she had left him, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Elsie removed her dressing gown, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door and silently crossed the room. Lifting the quilt, she gingerly slid under the covers, ever so carefully maneuvering herself back until she could just barely feel the warmth radiating from Charles's chest but not as far as to jar him out of sleep.

"How's our girl?"

Elsie's head snapped back in surprise, striking the bridge of Charles's nose with blunt force. "Ow," Charles barked out reflexively, bringing his hand up to rub the spot. "Shhh," Elsie hissed spinning around and clasping a hand over his mouth. "Every female on this hall was just outside this door not moments ago! We'd need all the luck of ladybirds to see them sleeping just yet."

Elsie observed the tears welling in his eyes, undoubtedly due to the positioning of the blow, and couldn't keep a quiet laugh from bubbling out. "I'm sorry my dear," she said as she kissed his cheeks, "but you scared the living daylights out of me!" She landed a light smack on his shoulder. "Let's assess the damage," she whispered as she ran her fingertips gently across the bridge of his nose and along his cheekbones. "I know I can be a bit hard-headed at times, but thankfully I have not appeared to do much lasting damage this time," she laughed as she took his face in her hands and let her lips brush over the tip of his nose.

"It's a blessed thing that I'm mad for you, lass," he answered, giving her hip a teasing smack. "We're both going to be a bit mad come morning if we don't get to sleep," she replied, turning back over to settle her back against his chest but reaching back for his hand. He threaded his arm under hers, tucking his hand around her waist. "I quite agree, but you failed to answer my question," he whispered against her ear.

"And what question was that?"

"Anna. Is she quite alright?"

Elsie felt herself starting to slip away into sleep. "Not Anna," she mumbled.

Charles propped himself up on one elbow, pressing on Elsie's shoulder to guide her onto her back. "What do you mean, 'not Anna'?"

Elsie rolled back onto her side, intent on getting what little sleep she could. "Daisy."

Charles shook his head and rolled his eyes. "That girl will be the death of us, Elsie. Mark my words."

"Right now, lack of sleep will be the death of us Charles," she said running her hand over his. "Lie back down, close your eyes," she ordered drowsily.

"But what could have had her so worked up," he wondered out loud.

Elsie let out a heavy sigh. Obviously sleep was far off from Charles's current web of musings. She turned over towards him, pressing him down onto his back and bringing an arm to rest across his chest. "What do you think, Charles," she said with an incredulous stare.

"Hell if I know," he grumbled. "Burnt a tart? Put more soap in the stew? Spilled the beans?"

"Funny you should mention…" Elsie stopped the thought before it started him off on another tangent.

"What do you mean by that," he asked.

"Never you mind," she backtracked. "You cannot think of one thing that might be haunting that poor girl?"

"Other than some excerpt from a penny dreadful? No, I cannot."

"Oh honestly Charles," she said as she propped herself up onto his chest so that she could look him in the eye. "William?"

"What," he asked, confounded. "Why would that be?"

"The boy died Charles. You of all people should understand that," she said, becoming angered at the thought of him forgetting the pain they saw each other through after the lad had passed.

"I understand that Elsie, but why would that be troubling her now? It's been months. Besides, it is not as if she loved the boy."

Elsie shook her head and pursed her lips. "William was the closest thing that girl had to a friend in this house," she explained. "Of course she loved him. Maybe not in the ways of the heart, but it was love all the same, even if she doesn't realise it to be such." Elsie brought her head back down to rest on Charles's chest. "Besides, it is not an easy thing to be the object of someone's affections who you simply do not feel the same for."

Charles's bleary eyes shot open. "What are you trying to say Elsie?" He was becoming a bit too loud for anyone's good.

"Calm down," she laughed as she brought her hand up to his cheek, brushing a thumb across his lips. "I was speaking of Joe."

"Oh. Him," Charles huffed.

"Yes. HIM," Elsie said patting his cheek. "That man proposed marriage to me on not one, but two separate occasions, and I found myself having to turn him down on both. Breaking a heart is not something to take lightly, Mr. Carson."

"No. I don't suppose it is," he replied. "Not that I would know."

"You should," she said. "You've broken mine several times now," she went on. Noticing the pained look upon his face, she continued. "As I have yours, I am sure." She tucked her head into the crook of his neck but not before dropping a kiss onto the pulse. "You cannot have love without experiencing a bit of heartbreak. What counts is how you come out the other side." She moved against him in an effort to get impossibly closer. "As long as we always emerge here, I will be content to the end of my days."

Charles gently kissed the top of her head. "As will I." He brought his cheek to rest upon her hair. "I do love you Elsie Carson."

"And I love you… though you won't be able to tell as much come morning if you won't allow me to nod off and soon," she said pressing her hands to his cheeks with threatening eyes but a bright smile. She brought her lips down upon his, bidding him a proper goodnight before settling back into his embrace. As her breathing began to even out, she heard faintly in the muddled distance:

"But what was that about Daisy spilling the beans?"


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Elsie's eyes blinked open at the sound of Daisy's bleary wake up call. Charles would certainly be gone by now, she knew, but as she turned to face the side of her bed he had claimed all those years ago, a laugh burst forth from her lips. She could barely move at all as she found the quilt meticulously and quite thoroughly tucked in all around her. With Charles, love had always been about the small, unspoken kindnesses.

Her foolish, lovely, man.

She managed to free a hand, running it lightly over the invisible indent in the sheets, heartened to find the barest trace of warmth remaining. She hadn't dreamt it. He had been there. They had been together. The tides were once again turning in their favour.

Elsie rose and dressed efficiently, fastening each button, affixing each hairpin. The golden glint intermittently bouncing off the mirror as she methodically moved through the practiced regimen was easily reflected in her smile. "Well old friend," she said as she slipped the modest band off her finger and tucked it into the small wooden box that was its home on her mantle, "I shall see you come nightfall." Such was the routine, day after day for nigh on six years now.

She settled into her chair, just to the right of his, offering a sympathetic smile to all of the other nodding headed, sleep-deprived faces seated round the table. "Perhaps we should be asking Mrs. Patmore for a bit of coffee this morning," she mused out loud knowing that Daisy was busy and out of earshot. "For as much as Daisy worries about the souls of the departed, she certainly doesn't care much about waking them in the middle of the night," Thomas griped.

"Pardon, Mr. Barrow," Charles bellowed as he entered the servants' hall. Everyone customarily stood in his presence, but as they turned their faces to acknowledge him fully, their eyes began to widen in surprise. Elsie bit her bottom lip so hard she feared she had cut through as she fought valiantly to swallow the laughter that begged to flow forth.

Charles Carson sported a nice stripe of aubergine over the bridge of his nose.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsie caught Sarah O'Brien giving Thomas an inquisitive, yet humourous, glance, immediately shooting one full of warning back in their direction. Some of the undermaids and hall boys giggled. Anna looked thoroughly confused as they all sat themselves down without another word. "Would anyone care to inform me what they find so amusing this morning," Charles gruffly grumbled.

"What happened to you," Mrs. Patmore unceremoniously bellowed as she placed the steaming plate in front of him. "It looks like you've gone three rounds with a circus animal," she said as reached out a tentative hand, stopping just short of his nose as memory started to kick in and a bright smile lit her face. "Or perhaps a dragon…" she mumbled under her breath as she turned on her heel and made her way back to the kitchen, whistling all the way.

Charles gave Elsie an incredulous look, demanding an explanation. "Finish your breakfast," she whispered curtly. "Everything is fine." She knew he was seconds away from his habitual rise to panic. Charles grudgingly did as he was told, loudly banging his utensils about. Elsie rolled her eyes, trying her best not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She knew what was coming, the imminent meltdown, but couldn't help seeing the humour in it all.

The servants left the table one by one, off to complete their duties as assigned, until only Elsie and Charles remained. "What the devil is going on," he barked out. "Come to my sitting room, but first you must promise me that you will not overreact," she replied quietly, still biting her lower lip for all she was worth.

"When do I ever overreact," he asked, shocked that she would ever suggest such a thing.

"Lord, give me strength," she muttered as she steered him down the hall by the elbow.

Once they were in her sitting room, Elsie closed the door and ordered Charles to sit down on the settee. "I most certainly will not," he argued. "What did Mrs. Patmore mean when she commented about my appearance? Elsie, what's going on," he demanded as she dug through the upper drawer on her desk, praying that he didn't catch sight of himself in the mirror over the mantle.

"First off, yes you will," she said as she gently pushed him to be seated. "I will not have you tearing through here, bellowing to the heavens over a little mistake… one that you indeed caused, I will have you know."

Charles was getting nervous. "Elsie, what aren't you telling me?"

Elsie settled herself firmly upon his lap with an arm slung over his shoulder, mainly in an effort to hold him down. She slowly lifted the small mirror up to his face, bracing herself for his reaction. Charles went slack-jawed at the sight of the small patch of bruising right smack in the middle of his face. Elsie couldn't hold it back anymore. She buried her face in his neck as she started to unravel with laughter.

"I cannot comprehend how you find this remotely funny, Elsie Carson," he groused. "How am I supposed to show myself upstairs in this condition?"

"I am sorry," Elsie said, still laughing. "You are right. It is a horrible travesty."

"Well now you are just poking fun," he complained, but found himself forcing back a smile. This was his Elsie, his maddening, delightful Elsie. Constantly taking the seriousness of running a household as grand as Downton Abbey and turning it on its head. Challenging him, finding the brighter side to things, stealing the infrequently lighthearted moments… it was all part of her frustratingly irresistible charm.

Damn it all, he loved her for it.

"You simply tell his Lordship that you were startled out of sleep by another servant's nightmare, and in your groggy state, you ran into something."

"Like my wife's head?"

Elsie playfully slapped his shoulder. "Foolish man. The peg on your door, a hatstand… I don't know, but you'll think of something. You always do," she said as she gently brushed her lips over the injury. She stole a glance at the two of them in the small mirror and smiled. "The bad news is you're still as handsome a devil as ever. No need to fear that," she said as she rose to her feet, satisfied that he had cooled down enough to be set free.

"Does it hurt?"

Charles's cheeks reddened. "To be honestly, I had no idea anything was wrong until Mrs. Patmore opened her mouth."

His reference to Mrs. Patmore gave Elsie pause. What was that little quip she had uttered about a dragon about, she wondered. It did not elude her that one of Charles's nicknames for her had always been his "Scottish dragon."

Suddenly it was Elsie's turn to panic.

She made sure that Charles was calm enough to proceed off to his duties, sending him off with a brief kiss and a loving stroke to his arm. After briefly reassuring Anna that everything was okay after bumping into her in the hall, she made her way to the kitchen. She would straighten this out one way or another.

"Mrs. Patmore? A word please."


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: As always, thank you for your kind comments, reviews, and requests. I cannot believe I've been writing what was originally a little, cheeky one-shot for almost a year now. Your words have been the ones that push me to continue, and I thank you for each and every one. Now, this chapter takes a bit of a turn, but in order to get to Series 3, I need to push on through. Hopefully it will result in some big payoffs!**

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 38

Beryl Patmore followed Elsie Hughes into her sitting room looking like the cat that got the cream. "How is _Mister_ Carson," the cook asked with a lilt, putting just a bit too much emphasis on the man's title for comfort as Elsie closed the door. Elsie turned around and eyed the woman warily. What exactly did she know, and how exactly had she come to discover it? Surely she wasn't as acutely observant as Anna. Best go for a gentle approach.

"Oh, you know Mister Carson. Appearance is everything," she said, stiffening up and raising her chin a bit. "He'd sooner be missing a limb than a button in that dining room." She waved a dismissive hand and rolled her eyes.

They shared a laugh at the thought. Elsie had to admit, this eased interaction with a woman of her own age and stature was infinitely more welcomed than their normal state of feuding and grousing over the key to the store cupboard and what was to be ordered when.

"Now, what did you want to see me about," Beryl asked. "Daisy's getting on at tarts, but I'd rather keep an eye out so as we don't lose the kitchen in its entirety. The fire brigade can only do so much, you know."

Elsie swallowed hard. How exactly was she supposed to ask her knowledge of the situation? Just as she had made up her mind, a loud knock fell upon the door.

"Come in," Elsie choked out, a bit thrown by the interruption.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Hughes, but there are some men here to see you. I think it might be about Mr. Bates," Anna said, white as a sheet.

"I'd best be going then," Beryl said, turning to make her exit.

"No, thank you. I'd rather you stay," she said to the cook as she motioned Anna to bring the visitors in. "I dare say that if this does concern John Bates, whatever you need to discuss with me can, and should, be witnessed," she said mindfully to the two smartly dressed men who entered her parlour behind Anna.

"I am Ashleigh Barnes, clerk of the court. This is Constable Baker," he said gesturing towards the second gentleman. "I am here to notify you, Elsie Hughes, and a Miss Sarah O'Brien, that you have hereby been summoned as a witness for the prosecution in the case against John Bates."

"Anna, please go and fetch Miss O'Brien," Elsie said as she placed a gentle hand onto Anna's back, steering her towards the door by her elbow. Anna looked at her pleadingly. "Now please," she added stepping just over the threshold with her before whispering, "You know that I will inform you of anything of importance that transpires here. I can promise you that." Anna nodded, blinking fiercely as she rushed off down the corridor.

"Now," she said as she turned back towards Beryl and the two men standing in the middle of the room. "I do so hope that it is within my rights to inquire why in heaven's name I would be asked to testify on behalf of the prosecution in this case." Beryl noted the quiet strength in Elsie's tone and overall demeanor, wishing she could cheer her on out loud. This whole business with Mr. Bates being arrested and held for his former missus' murder had turned the entire house upside down and had irrevocably destroyed their Anna over the last few months; this only added a whole new level of stress to the matter.

"It is of our belief that you may hold key information which could strengthen the case against John Bates," Mr. Barnes answered. "In cases such as these, any information which may point to implication must be taken seriously, investigated and brought to light. I do hope you understand our position."

"Oh, I understand it alright," Elsie said, "But I have no clearer understanding of what it is that you think that I can offer you."

"It has come to our attention that you may have overheard a private conversation between the victim and her husband... a particularly threatening conversation."

"And from whom may I ask did you collect this _assumption_," Elsie challenged.

"I am afraid that our informant was anonymous," Constable Baker said quietly as he handed Elsie a rather crumpled letter.

The only soul she had told about overhearing the conversation that took Mr. Bates away from Anna was Charles. She closed her eyes in brief prayer before opening them to read the contents of the letter and felt her chest open in relief when she found that she did not recognize the handwriting. In her heart, she knew that Charles was not capable of revealing such information no matter what the circumstances, though his head for propriety sometimes served to lead him astray.

Someone in this house had overheard her. Nothing surprising, to be sure.

Anna returned with Sarah O'Brien in tow. "I am quite busy, I assure you Mrs. Hughes," O'Brien started barking but stilled as she saw the men standing in the room. "Beg pardon."

"Miss Sarah O'Brien," Mr. Barnes asked in her direction.

O'Brien nodded. She had seen enough in her lifetime to recognize when trouble had come knocking at her door.

"We are here to inform you, along with Mrs. Hughes here, that you will be required to appear and testify in front of the magistrate during the trial of John Bates."

"Me? But I know nothin'" O'Brien scoffed.

"This letter would beg to differ," Mrs. Hughes said tersely as she handed the crumpled paper to O'Brien.

Sarah ran a hand over the wrinkles, not caring to smooth them away as much as the script she had not seen often but had come to recognize all too well.

Why?

How lost of a soul could one be to write the fate of another?

She swallowed hard as she worked to erase any trace of knowledge from her face. "I fail to see how this proves either of us know anything."

"We take any suggestion of implication quite seriously Miss O'Brien," Mr. Barnes answered plainly. "You will receive further details through the post in the days leading up to the trial," he continued. "Until then, we will bid you good day. We will see ourselves out."

"No need," spat out O'Brien, thankful for the excuse to release herself from the other women's company to deal with this on her own. "Come with me then."

As the three left the room, Anna's face fell as Elsie sank back against her desk. She would not break. Not in front of her fragile girl.

"What now," Anna managed through hitched breath.

"Now, we pray," Beryl said as she threw an arm over the girl's shoulders and stared sympathetically at Elsie.


	39. Chapter 39

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 39

Elsie's stomach lurched as the car rumbled along, crunching over the stones in the drive. It would be the only sound to cut through the crushing silence. Sarah O'Brien sat beside her, staring out the window, eyes dead as Elsie had ever seen them. It was often of great benefit to be partial to all the goings on within the halls of Downton Abbey, but the knowledge of uncovered secrets almost always proved to swiftly turn a curse.

The family had stayed behind with Anna. Her Anna, but no longer. Elsie knew that Anna would no longer be hers. Not after today. Not after what she had done.

The barrister gave her nary a moment to breathe on that blasted stand, putting her feet to the fire and forcing her to look into the hell that was written upon her girl's face. She tried to hold back, tried only to give what was forcibly asked of her through careful words and subtle diversions, but a small nod from John Bates pushed the truth from her lips. Her glance, fleetingly directed under heavy lids, fell upon Anna's face, a raging storm of quiet fury, disappointment and betrayal.

Not only had she lost her; she had cut her to the bone.

It was a horrific thing to live through what Vera had done to the poor soul. She finally knew what it was to have someone harm her child. She never imagined herself capable of dealing such a blow herself.

It was all her fault. John Bates would hang, and she had a hand in it. Anna would never, could never, forgive her for that.

* * *

><p>Charles polished his way through the entire service; when there remained no news, he started again.<p>

"Tea spoon, egg spoon," he muttered to himself under his breath.

_Why didn't I go? Thought of a fool. I couldn't leave this house._

"Melon spoon, Grapefruit spoon..."

_I should have left this house. I should be there._

"Jam spoon..."

_I should be with my girls._

"Bouillon spoon."

Charles thought back to the first time he had taught William the names of each piece of flatware in the service. The boy was so young, so clumsy, yet so eager to please. He wanted nothing more than for his mother to be proud of him; when he lost the one that gave him life, he gained the one to raise him in this house. His Elsie.

Whilst Mr. Bates was not to be likened to a ward under their care, he remained family. Charles knew enough of the law to understand what it would mean if he were to be found guilty. He would be lost, just as William before him. It would destroy Anna and likely take Elsie right along with her.

"What is taking so bloody long," Charles unconsciously bellowed as he struck the table.

"Take some tea, please," Beryl Patmore said softly as she gently dropped a tray upon his desk.

Her voice startled him out of his reverie, causing him to turn suddenly, his face still full of thunder. When he saw the kindness she had brought, he immediately softened. "Beg pardon. It's just..."

"I know you're worried," she said as she crossed to him, cup in hand. "We're all worried, but worries only grow if they're nursed," she continued, placing the cup in his hand.

As his fingers began to curl around the cup, the phone rang out. Though they had become used to the shrill tone, today it felt different. Ominous.

Charles hesitantly reached out to lift the receiver from the base.

"Yes. Yes, m'Lord. I understand."

Beryl could not read his blank expression.

"When should we expect you? Oh. I see. And Mrs. Hughes... and Miss O'Brien?"

_You daft man! Give me a clue._

"I will... make arrangements," he said, returning the receiver without so much as a close to the call. He withdrew his hand slowly, blindly knocking over the teacup, not bothering to attempt to still the puddle seeping into the carefully polished wood.

Beryl's hand flew to her mouth. "You cannot say..."

Charles's face went ashen. "I must... I must," he managed, turning a small circle, like a caged animal not knowing where to turn to find solace from an invisible threat.

He bolted out the door towards Elsie's parlour, leaving Beryl grasping the back of a chair in his pantry.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N Thank you kindly for your patience as I fleshed out this chapter. This was an event in the series that I felt was brushed over and struggled to accept, and I wanted to come up with something to do it just a bit more justice. Trying to do so in the midst of winding up my graduate studies has been both a blessing and a curse to be sure! Also, I know that I put forth that O'Brien knew who had sent the letter to the police, but in true Downton fashion, I will leave it up to you to decide who the culprit was. Think of it as a "choose your own villain" adventure.**

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 40

Elsie's hand stopped just short of the latch. The backdoor would most decidedly be unlocked, what with Thomas's overwhelmingly frequent need to soothe his nerves with finely rolled relief, Daisy's stolen moments out in the open air away from Beryl's barked orders and the stifling heat of the kitchen, and Anna's…

Elsie swallowed hard.

She shook her head in an effort to clear the fog as she heard a familiar but unusual sounding voice behind her. "Suppose we should get on with it." She turned to look at Sarah O'Brien, not for the first time that day, with sympathetic eyes. The words may have been terse but the tone with which they came forth was decidedly defeated. Strange to think that the only person on the face of God's green earth able to truly understand the emotional impact of the events of the day would be a woman so often set on stirring up trouble.

Not today.

A tremor swiftly coursed through Elsie's stilted fingers as she forced a breath, preparing herself to deliver the news to the others. It was the only way. Charles had not been there; he could not accurately relay the events of the day through secondhand knowledge. It would be entirely up to her. He may wear the crown, but she remained the ever relied upon steadfast force of calm that so often quelled the tides. Today could be no exception.

Sarah gently nudged her aside, opening the door to a whole new layer of fresh hell. There would be no calm today, no relief. No hope. John Bates would hang, Anna would be lost to despair, and life would be expected to go on as if nothing had ever happened.

Elsie gave a knowing nod to Sarah as they started down the corridor as quietly as possible. If only she could make it to her sitting room for a brief moment of peace; she knew quite well that would only be delaying the inevitable. To that tune, Sarah was right. Best get on with it.

Before anymore ruminating could be afforded, Daisy crossed through from the servants' hall on her way to the kitchen, catching the two out of the corner of her eye. Wordlessly, she hurried off to alert Beryl as to their return. _Even Daisy cannot bring herself to look at me_. If she could not stand up for John's life and Anna's happiness, what servant would ever believe that she would fight their corner if so needed?

And Charles. How could she ever face him? Today, she had condemned a man to death and lost the trust of their Anna in the process. How could he love a woman so clinical and detached enough to do such a thing?

Elsie knew that he would tell her that she had no choice but to do what was right in the eyes of the law. Such was the manner of a man steeped in the ways of honour and tradition, but if she had to do it all over again, had to once again be confronted with the look of betrayal, disappointment , and hatred painted on her beloved Anna's face, she believes she would have to choose the other path, circumstances be damned.

As quickly as the thoughts had come, Beryl came bustling out of the kitchen, wringing her hands and uncharacteristically searching for absent words. She gently placed a hand on Elsie's arm, steering her towards the servants' hall. "I've put the kettle on. I'm afraid everyone's waiting to hear news, but I'll have Daisy have a cuppa waiting in your sitting room for after." Elsie looked to her with a mixture of appreciation and trepidation. "One for Miss O'Brien too please," she said quietly. Beryl nodded solemnly. It must have been quite the day.

Everything began to unfold in a great haze. Before she knew what was happening, Elsie found herself in front of the entire staff gathered in the servants' hall, relaying the events of the day as controlled as she could. Ever the steady one, ever the calming force, she fought to push past the hitch that crept into her voice, catching on words rehearsed over each bump of the journey home.

"How will we ever face her," Daisy asked, the child ever looking for answers, turning to those she trusted had them. For once, Elsie did not. She could only manage the first thing that sprung to mind.

"With kindness, I hope."

* * *

><p>Her Ladyship had called Charles upstairs in order to confirm the details of the call she herself had received from his Lordship. She had asked to speak with Elsie upon her return; though Charles detested the idea of running her through repeating the details of the day at all, never mind repeatedly, he knew that he must in this case.<p>

As he descended the stairs, the sound of his beloved's voice struggling yet succeeding to inform the remaining staff struck him more fiercely than he had expected. In that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to take her far away. Take her away from the pain, away from everyone's inquisitive stares and prodding, away from their duty to Downton. He was tired of watching her soul split with loss. First William, and now Anna.

If she had chosen to go another way, she would have been an amazing mother. He shook his head. She IS an amazing mother, no matter their unusual circumstance.

How much more could she stand to lose?

He found his way into the room and, though she was handling herself quite well, broke into the conversation. He would spare her any more talk than necessary. It was the only kindness he could think to afford in the moment. "Her Ladyship wondered if you could give her an account of the day." _I hate that I have to put you through this._

"Of course," Elsie started but felt compelled to speak one last bit of peace. "I'd like to say, I may have been called for the prosecution, but I do not believe in Mr. Bates' guilt." She turned to leave the others, quietly straightening herself to carry on. Carry on with her duties. Carry on with her life. It all goes on. It would be best to remember that.

"What about you, Miss O'Brien," Lady Rosamund's visiting lady's maid, Miss Shore, chimed in. "You're very quiet."

"I'm sorry to have been part of it," Sarah stated sincerely, striking a newfound gravity within Daisy and Beryl.

"There'll have to be a new valet now, will won't there," Thomas jeered as Sarah started to cross past him.

It was one thing to hypothetically plot someone's demise and truly another when it unfolded before your very eyes. Sarah stared unflinchingly into Thomas's eyes as she made a quiet declaration of her own.

"I don't often feel selfless, but when I listen to you, I do."

* * *

><p>Her Ladyship was kind, as was her sentimental American way; Elsie found no comfort in her words. She was not the one who lost her only hope for a daughter that day. She still had three lovely girls who she could claim outright and who loved her. Though not one to talk upon these feelings freely, even to Charles, no one was now left to discuss them with even if she wanted to… even if she needed to.<p>

Elsie worried her bottom lip as was her habit in times of distress. She would not cry in front of the staff. It would do no good to show weakness to those she was tasked to keep charge over, even under the circumstances. She knew her absence would be explained away, not that explanations were needed at times such as these, but it was of no further thought.

No. She would remain the cool, practical housekeeper, governed over by sense and uncontrolled by emotion. She would stand strong as steel whilst her heart sank deeper into despondence.

In an effort to mask her returned presence, she opened the door to her sitting room without a sound. Charles was faced away from the door, fussing over the tray which carefully lay on her desk.

"I'd quite like to be alone, if you wouldn't mind," Elsie said pointedly, catching Charles unexpectedly, forcing him to turn and spill a dash of sugar from the spoon in his hand.

"I was just fixing your tea," he said softly, returning the spoon to the tray and stooping to brush the fallen sugar from the floor.

"I thank you for the kindness," she said as she attempted to cross to the desk. Where her mind excelled, her body failed. She found herself frozen in place just inside the door.

Charles closed the distance, reaching out to brush her cheek; she pulled her head away slightly, averting his gaze.

"Elsie." His whisper broke with the pain of being dismissed. He could tell she was in pain, a pain he could never dare imagine. He should be the one to take it away, to soothe her, to make things right again; he was not the law. He could not overturn the injustice done in that courtroom, no matter how shattering it proved to his loved ones.

He started to move past her, convinced that she wanted nothing to do with him but knowing that it was nothing of his own doing. He tried to leave, tried to cross over that threshold in order to honour her wishes. His body failed. He could not leave her in this pain, not without trying.

He turned and approached her slowly as not to startle her. He slid his hands, those strong hands entrusted to keeping all things afloat in the best and worst of times, over her hips and across her form, wrapping himself around her from behind. She struggled at first, her body lurching forward in an attempt to break away.

_You don't deserve this. You don't deserve a wife so willing and able to fate a man to his death and throw away her loved ones' happiness. _

"Let me go, Charles. Please," Elsie pleaded as her voice started to break. "For your sake… your own benefit…" The tears she had fought so hard to keep contained started to stream down her face.

"Let me go," she cried, desperate to push past the surfacing emotion, struggling to breathe.

Charles turned her in his arms, gently pressing her head to his chest. Elsie's angry tears dropped one by one onto his impeccably pressed shirt as his arms wandered over her back in a frantic search for peace and calm. "Go. Please. Now," she wept as her knees began to buckle, her body sinking towards the floor. This was her burden to carry, not his. It was her fault, all her fault. She would send him away in order to spare him her pain. As Charles lifted her to fit against him, he could only manage one word.

"Never."


	41. Chapter 41

Store Cupboard Spies – Chapter 41

Upon receiving the call from his Lordship, Charles had taken great care to prepare Elsie's sitting room in an effort to provide any modicum of comfort. Borrowing the softest quilt from the upstairs linen closet, enlisting Beryl's help in fixing a tea, advising the staff that once she and Miss O'Brien were to return that neither were to be disturbed by anyone but himself. Nothing could erase the situation at present, but he would stand by her side and help her through it in any way that he could.

By now, it was widely known that both women had been called as witnesses for the prosecution. The idea of Elsie sitting up on that stand, in essence completely alone with a burden of information, whilst some undoubtedly beastly solicitor attempted to pry incriminating evidence from her against Mr. Bates turned his stomach. Any information that she may possibly hold that would be of any use to them would surely serve to sever Anna's ties to Elsie, no matter how truthfully presented. Watching Elsie suffer through revealing herself to Anna in order to help the girl deal with John's arrest was grueling enough; it all seemed so simplistic now. This loss, the loss of a life in its entirety, with the added complication of betrayal, however non-intentional, would prove difficult to pass, he was quite certain.

Though ever the strong, steady matriarch, it would devastate her, his Elsie.

He had forced her to break, but only out of love. That large, lumbering body of his, the one he had trained to stand stiffly at attention, the one he had worked to transform into the physical representation of quiet restraint and propriety was worth nothing if it were not able to provide security and protection to his fragile lass. Elsie would have his head if he ever dared to describe her as such out loud, but after what he could only imagine as a completely shattering day, he knew the truth. She would need him more than ever, though she'd surely try to push him away.

He would not fail her.

The room remained silent as the minute hand on the clock crept along at a maddening pace. Charles had gently sat Elsie down upon the settee, draping the quilt around her shoulders and sitting just close enough to reassure her of his presence but not overly so as to be intrusive. He would allow her the time she needed. He would not push. He would not pry.

Every so often, he would timidly run his fingertips over the back of her hand. Though Elsie could not bring herself to look at him, she would occasionally turn her palm over, giving his roaming touch a slight squeeze of appreciation. After the tea had long gone cold, in a voice she barely recognized as her own, Elsie whispered out the painful confession she had been holding in all day.

"She hates me."

Charles's heart sank. He had guessed she would feel as such, given what she would have been asked to produce to the court, but this was Anna, their Anna. She was not capable of hatred, not even in the worst of circumstances. Heaven knew Thomas and O'Brien had given her enough cause to turn her heart darker over the years, but she always remained the bright and cheerful one under their care, no matter the hardships placed in her path.

He searched for words of reassurance, words of warmth and hope, but none were not to be found. Instead, he hesitantly smoothed a hand across her back. When she didn't pull away, he let his hand wander to her shoulder, wordlessly pulling her closer.

"Her face, Charles, it will haunt me to the end of my days," she said flatly. He could tell she was forcing detachment, trying not to feel the emotion behind the words as she spoke them. Description was safe. Feelings were not.

"I cannot imagine," he rumbled softly, brushing a slow hand over her arm. She lay her cheek down upon his shoulder.

"I heard her."

Charles brought his free hand up to gently run a finger under her chin in encouragement. Elsie slowly drew her head up to look at him for the first time since they had entered the room.

"She was talking with Lady Mary, Mr. and Mrs. Crawley, and his Lordship."

Charles could not imagine Anna ever uttering a bad word towards anyone, especially Elsie. It simply was not in her character, though hurt was capable of turning people. He dreaded hearing the answer to what he was about to ask of her. "And what did she say, love?"

"I can't believe Mrs. Hughes would say those things. Miss O'Brien maybe, but not Mrs. Hughes." She repeated the words blankly, but the tears rising behind her lashes began to betray her. Elsie dropped her head. "I've failed her, Charles. She'll never look at me the same way again."

Anger was beginning to flare within Charles. Elsie had only done what was right in the eyes of the law. If she were found guilty of committing perjury, he would have lost her to this chaos of injustice. He tempered his fury to deal with what he knew was to come next; it tore at his heart more than anything else that day.

"I've lost her. I've lost her trust. I've lost her faith," Elsie's voice caught as she finally said it.

"I've lost her love, Charles. She's gone."

He longed to tell her that it would pass in time, that Anna would come round, but it was not in his power to make such assurances. No matter the words he would manage to find, they would most decidedly fall on deaf ears. He had nothing to give her in this moment but himself.

He only hoped it would prove enough.


	42. Chapter 42

Store Cupboard Spies - Chapter 42

The coming days were filled with what could only be described as a mournful tentativeness. Despite the festive season, a quiet depression settled over the rooms and corridors of the estate. The verdict touched everyone, starkly contrasting with the bright lights and ornaments hanging from the towering tree in the grand hall.

No one knew how to address Anna, inadvertently distancing themselves further from the girl who had suddenly found herself alone. Though words failed to come easily, small acts of kindness began to emerge. Daisy's early morning knocks were delivered softer upon doors. Mary's calls became a bit less frequent. Mrs. Patmore tried to gently encourage Anna to keep her strength up by making her favorites all day long.

It all seemed to come so easily to everyone but Elsie.

She found herself at a complete loss, swallowed up by the guilt that came along with delivering incriminating testimony during the trial. Charles did his best to reassure her that there was no alternative and that given time, Anna would come to that understanding, but Elsie's pain, though unexpressed since that fateful day, was palpable.

Anna had gone to the jail one last time to see John. Elsie knew that this would be the hardest day of the girl's life, saying goodbye to the man she had just married and loved more than life itself. She tried to prepare the staff for any fallout that may occur, changing the linen rotas and other responsibilities to give Anna the time she needed if not to heal, then to at least begin the mourning process.

Watching them play with a planchette nearly sent her over the edge, cursing their merriment at such a devastating time until she began to realize that every one of them needed a break from this new grim reality. Far be it from her to begrudge them that, just as long as it was well wrapped up before Anna was due back. Then came the news that Isis had gone missing. "Of all things holy," she groaned as she gathered up coats for Thomas and Charles, sending them out into the night to lead a search party.

"Did you find her," Elsie asked Charles as he reentered her sitting room a full hour later. "No sign I'm afraid," he sighed as he began to shed the thick wool that had covered his formal dinner wear. "You'd think the good Lord would have spared him the loss of his dog at a time like this," she went on, clearly strained by everything falling down around them. "Ours not to reason why," he sensibly replied, striving to be the pillar holding it all together. He knew that none of this was truly about the dog but found himself quite glad of the distraction. He would never wish harm upon the poor creature, but having Elsie's mind taken off the fate of Mr. Bates and in turn Anna for more than a few minutes was most certainly welcome.

Unfortunately it was to be short-lived.

Elsie began to fidget, and it began to leak out. First came the surface concerns of what it would mean for the family socially. He knew that this was her way of reaching out to him. She would not dare speak of Anna any more than she already had; he knew that it hurt her too much to do so. By addressing what would appear to be his main concerns, he knew that she was trying to open communication without letting herself feel.

And fall apart…

He knew to be patient. The cracks would slowly begin to show; he would be there to hold them fast.

"I can't bear to think of it. How will Anna bear it?"

Charles fought to keep concern off his features. _Be sensible, matter-of-fact. Anna's the closest thing Elsie will have to a child of her own. You have to be the strong one._

"As the widow of a murderer," he said regretfully. He hated being so pointed and observational, especially when it concerned those he had come to care for. Still, those were the facts and facts would keep emotions at bay.

_Sensible. Sensible and strong. The voice of reason. That is my role._

"She'll have to get used to a degree of notoriety, I'm afraid," he continued. _The facts, Charles. These are the facts. You do no good hiding the truth of the matter._

"And so will we as the house that shelters her," he finished turning from Elsie's grief-stricken face, only to find Anna suddenly standing in the doorway.

_This cannot be happening_.

There she stood, white as a sheet. She had just said her final farewells to her husband and was now standing right here in front of him as he vehemently revealed the shame she would bring down upon them all.

_It is no wonder they all believe me a cold man whose only concern is propriety. _

Anna proceeded to shakily give her notice. Charles's heart hammered away inside his head as he shamefully looked to Elsie. Shock and hurt were firmly etched across her face, and he wondered if she would ever forgive him for being so blunt at the worst possible time.

He gently ushered Anna into the room knowing that Elsie would not give her up without a fight, but was it honestly what would be best for the girl? That he was not entirely convinced of. Family honor aside, how would Anna be treated in a village where everyone knew what her husband had done? Of course they were unconvinced of any wrongdoing on Mr. Bates part, but they had lived and worked alongside the man for years. What of the general bystander? Gossip was never a kind bedfellow. He could only imagine what disrepute would be cast upon the poor girl when talk of murder was to be her constant passenger.

He listened as Anna resolutely issued the same conclusion, choosing sensibility over the emotional ties she had created for herself within the walls of Downton. The girl bravely told of moving on to places where she would be an unknown stranger, places where she could create a new nameless, faceless life. Unfortunately that would mean leaving them all behind.

As much as he knew it would wound Elsie, he had to think of Anna first this time. "She has a point," he said flatly.

"Not one that I accept," Elsie replied steadily. She would dare anyone to spread malicious gossip about Anna Bates without enduring her own would keep Anna from ruin singlehandedly if she had to. She wasn't about to give up on her girl.

"I mean it Mrs. Hughes," Anna bravely replied. "I do."

Elsie could see that she was pale and drawn, but determined. There would be nothing she could say that would change her mind; it was quietly tearing her to shreds. She managed a slight nod, sending Anna off to parts unknown and leaving Charles standing there equally as speechless.

Elsie turned and made her way to the chair behind her desk. She sat down slowly, letting out a long, drawn out breath. There was only one thing she could think to say.

"Please leave."


End file.
